The Family Reunion

He sprints across
sunlit, grassy sweep,
while under sycamore shade
I close my eyes . . .
and see me.
Father's hand reaches out,
touching mine.
He sighs . . .

"That used to be me!"
Grandpa smiles,
frail fingers clutching Father's arm. 

"And me!"
My son runs winded to my side
and takes my hand.

           Steve Dunn Hanson

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spokane Valley, Washington 2012

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