So I sit here viewing a photo
a good friend took of our elder son
giving a toast at the wedding of
our son younger, the elder so poised,
with his wonderful wife looking on
smiling, as if her husband had just
made a humorous remark so bright
as to put the whole party at ease,
and so it was, as I remember.
I do remember, as though it were
yesterday, how proud I was of both
boys, by then grown men in need of no
influence I might have on either, . . .
evermore. The heart is here still too
full to recall the event with coarse
objectivity and that, too, proves
a mighty gift, for I feel I am
at the end of a tale worth telling:
Still sitting, looking at the picture
years after the event now in mind,
the tears doth flow here like a river
of living waters, leaving behind
such solace no father doth deserve.