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