Behold… Yesterday
I touched tomorrow.
A little sir named Sonny,
for he with no son,
sporting a surname nearly spent.
We are all sons
And daughters
of daughters and sons,
And cousins of some degree.
Our goings and comings
Must befuddle the immortal.
Joanie fades; Henry arrives; Doris lives on in memory.
Tears escape bondage
At hellos and goodbyes.
Legacy begets promise.
So, my cousin
Let us honor custom.
Let us weep and welcome,
Grieve and greet,
Recall and receive.
Behold these blessings:
The memory of before
And the joy of now.