Impression in Time

Today . . .
A gift from friends--
Impressions,
Sean's foot-prints
and hand-prints,
His name, a date, 1988.
Sean . . . happy,
Age 7, in wet cement--
Today--rock solid,
In concrete,
Eternal.

Nikki and Ralph,
brought the house--
years ago -- Today,
In kindness -
Unbidden, unasked,
Brought to me
A concrete affirmation
of Sean's existence.

In the rain,
They lugged and dug
And set it there--
In my back yard,
Under the rose tree,
One moment of life -
Frozen in time.

And with only words,
I try to express
How profoundly
It helps me heal--
This lasting impression.

Sean 1981 - 2006

He was my son,
Not my only son,
But my oldest one.

He was difficult;
He was different;
He was beautiful;
He was gifted;
He is gone.

Not gone like,
"I’ll see you later,
Mom."

But gone like,
Ashes in a box
That I keep
On the table
By the sofa
In the living room.

I should call it
Something else now.