On Leaving a Family Reunion


Aunt June always starts it:

Tears, stuttering sniffles over

Apologetic grins;

Then my mother, cousin and her daughter

All join in

This choked and salty chorus.

I never have–but am no less loved,

Rather a needed stoic witness,

Marvelling again and again

At this too-rarely-felt mystery:


Defiant of time’s passage and distance apart,

Contained in some otherworldly undercurrent

Of affection.



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