Now and Then
My grandchildren are stamping the ice-puddles,
dirty and sometimes deep. Fountains of muddy
water are splashing. Their mother, I’m afraid
won’t be amused. But a good time’s being had.
I walk apart in our own good other time,
you beside me. And for a moment I’m
sure of your actual presence, and the peace
floods me that’s always in that happiness.
Longing’s back at once with a quick pang.
But the constant consciousness that we belong,
our love, keeps happiness living in pain’s teeth.
… But only the real presence brings us that peace.