A message from Pittsburgh

opened tentatively, a friend’s

smiling name searching across Time

and the glittering remains

of the Atlantic Ocean,

one crossed between us

and the bridge of comradeship

forged in a pub by the Avon

so long ago.

A picture of my boys, cheerful

and fledgling optimism bursting

from beyond their early bird uniforms

the headline of his electronic note

and yet underneath it all

I realised that Time has been a beast,

for my eldest boy is now a year older

than I was when I first met my friend

from Pittsburgh, his brother

and his parents, who took me in on my travels.

I have not seen my friend in such a time

and it made me weep for all

the others I have missed since

I trekked the world

and its wife.

 

 

Dedicated to Dennis Riley.

Ian D. Hall 2017