summers in avellino

all that’s left of family, he’s 85, she’s 63.
death, disease, some depression have left their marks without concession.
lives recounted again and again, quell the fears of where they’ve been,
but not the path of where they’re going. weakened eyes and minds not knowing
when the last embrace will be – a fading vision – the last to see.
as i sit and drink this wine, with family, table and time to dine,
i feel a presence, souls before, who watch and smile at the door
of heaven’s gate to greet their child as lives confessed go reconciled
in Love, in reaching what will be, in sadness, but with surety
that time will take its rightful score, that Love shall live forevermore.



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