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Vera Kilgore Heilig: Her Poetry Lives (2017) H. Morris Williams, Marie Law Haire

And Have Not Charity

A farmer speaking to his younger son

Said “Plow my field. There’s work that must
Be done.”

The boy replied “I go.” But he did not
Go down to plow. Perhaps the day was hot

Or he had other things he wished to do.
His will came first, and often mine does too.

The older son, when bidden then to go

Flatly refused and told his father “No.
I will not go.” But later on he went

And plowed the field to which he had
Been sent.

I wonder, did he do his father’s will

Turning the furrows but complaining still? .
The field was plowed, but was the father glad?

The deed was good. The attitude was bad.

And what of me? I all too often do

The duty that I owe my fellow man
Ungraciously, and what God prods me to

I do, but just as little as I can,
Begrudging that. Have I performed His will?

And when I give my body to be burned
Unloving, is there any profit still

Except what can be reaped by those who turned

Aside to warm their hands before the blaze

Of my unwilling sacrifice? Is then

My giving but the show of one who pays

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