Catherine Wilson Opper

“Reunion”

Little left for us to gain or lose

but heaven itself,

we chance a backward glance

and find nothing lost,

every sad and sweet thing like

the in and out of breath,

shadow parts of who we are.

We meet again; we part forever,

fusing then to now and then.

Anxious griefs transcend to joy—

we have, after all, lived;

we do, after all, love:

On winter nights, the silk wind weaves

a shimmering song through pin oak leaves.

I hold my breath to hear them sing

and bridge my heart from Fall to Spring.