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.