The reuinionists were we
blood bound by family
of generations three
through thick or thin for me.
Thirty-plus in number
eighty-seven to ten in age
much planning and preparation
as if reuniting for the stage.
Though blood is thicker than water
it's no easier to cross for that
to part our seas of separation
was no simple play to act.
But once returned to the fold,
young, not-so-young and old
we matched noses and stories told
and came in together from the cold.
For the reunionists we were
remembering what it is
to be a part of something bigger
that all starts with a kiss.
And what better way to immortalize this grand gathering (“as if reuniting for the stage”) of kinfolk by way this poem – cheers!
ReplyDeleteWe reunionists have got to stick together. Reunionists unite! I say, if that's not a tautology of sorts.
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