Recently my wife and I
had dinner with elder son
for his thirty-sixth birthday.
To get to the appointed
restaurant meant driving one
hundred miles, ninety minutes
to spend two hours with son,
his wife and her family:
brother, father and his friend.
For a time just being there
proved so ecstatic, I thought
I’d died and gone to heaven.
It was a feeling of bliss
where life is suspended in
a timeless gauzy incense
with no other sensation
but the absence of you and,
in your place, a still presence.
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