Resonance

Once, when camping at Sequoia,
The ranger asked a series of questions,
To determine how many years folks had returned.

One couple was there for the thirty-fifth time.
I shuddered at the boredom that must entail.
Why not try thirty-five different parks in that time?

And though I still (mostly) fall into that same camp,
I had a glimpse of what might be appealing
About traveling the same road repeatedly.

When the Spanish Dancers came out in The Nutcracker,
In their marvelous red and black outfits, with fans,
I started weeping with the memory of two years ago,

When two sisters performed this dance
In their entry way, simply because I asked.
Later, when we went to the performance,
The older met my eye as she ran out,
Enormous grin, as if to say, “Isn’t this a scream?”

It was, for me, a vivid overlay.

I cried through that whole song,
Remembering the sweetness of our communion,
The passage of time,
The beauty of my young friends,

And how much I miss their mom.