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03/27/09 - (2)
In Springtime
The other night, I composed a birthday poem for Jan, My wife of twenty years, twenty years ago, Extolling the rapture of Bradford pear trees blossoming, And as a dedication, I wrote, "In springtime, I always think of you."
This Friday afternoon, She e-mailed me her response: "Thank you so very much for the lovely poem.... Yes, I do believe we truly were perpetually and forever in love.... Thank you again for thinking of me — for thinking of us."
Having supper, by myself, rereading her words, I cast back to the fast-flown past both of us yet possess — That season of springtides that bespelled us — And realize that, even now, Whatever we lost was never really lost, just left behind.
03/27/09 - (2)
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