There, there's that silhouette
lodged deep in my heart. I see
him even at that distance, in
that crowd descending the airport
escalator, even as his father
declares "there he is!" And,
there he is, as we grasp one
another, we and our youngest.
His face now defined and finely
chiseled with his own years
on the very cusp of a half century,
his smile broad, this child of ours,
asking how we are, seeing how
we are beside him, sheaves
of grey in his beloved hair.
How strange it is to welcome
briefly home the child we loved,
cherished and nurtured then bade
farewell as he confidently and with
ease sought his own life where we
are mere postscripts. How sweet
it is for the distance breached,
hearing his broad laugh directly
beside us in the gentle flesh.
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