I overtook him on the road to Emmaus
and we walked together discussing
what better path I might have chosen
given the lay of the land, the slope of trail
whether or not the Pass was closed.
He so favored my dead brother,
I could not take my eyes from him
And asked him to supper.
He said yes, and the light, it seemed,
followed us home,
where he sat beside me
until I was sure of who he was;
I then reached for a plate of figs,
turned back to his empty chair.
What did I expect
in the chill autumnal air?