Last night I saw my
mom and dad.
We had a lovely
chat.
Laughing, joking,
carrying on...
We’re always good at
that.
Dad, without his
oxygen tank,
Had no trouble
walking.
He spoke of books
and politics
And had no trouble
talking.
Mom dashed about her
kitchen
Busily preparing
Some delectable
treat to serve.
(I even heard her
swearing.)
Such visits happen
now and then.
Sometimes it even
seems
As though they’re
real and not occurring
ONLY in my DREAMS.
Why Mom and Dad are
in a dream,
I don’t have a clue.
But I love to see
them; it's
The best that I can
do.
It’s hard to believe
that eighteen years
Ago they passed
away.
It’s strange: it
almost seems as though
It happened
yesterday.
Healthy, strong,
invincible,
Robust, and never
sad,
Philosophizing,
loving, caring—
That’s how I see
Dad.
No less loving, but
more pensive
And never brash or
gushy,
Mom expresses love
through actions.
She’s kind, but
never mushy.
These dreamy
reunions I will cherish
Until my memory
fades;
Or until life
decides
It's time to pull
the shades.
(8-19-14) By Bob B
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