I have more love than ever.
Our kids have kids soon to have kids.
I need them. I need everyone
to come over to the house,
sleep on the floor, on the couches
in the front room. I need noise,
too many people in too small a space,
I need dancing, the spilling of drinks,
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It is nice to be without answers
at the end of summer.
Wind lifting leaves from branches.
The moment laid down like something
in childhood and forgotten, until later,
when stumbled upon, we think:
this is where it was lost.
The sadness isn't their sadness.
The sadness is the way
they will never unpack the rucksack
of happiness again.
They'll never surface as divers rising
through leagues of joy, through sun
willowing through the bottom half of waves.
They'll never surface again.
Again and again,
they will never surface.