All the bright angels

I'm sitting in the garden

thinking that summer time
is so perfect.

Far away I hear the strains
of the ice cream truck ~

the tune it's playing is
* match of the day*
and I think that's strange.

Above,
aeroplanes fly .
Taking people to exotic destinations.

The birds are tweeting in the trees
and soon,
you will be home from work.

Dusty.
Tired.
Thirsty.

I'll rise then
and pour you
a glass of sunshine.

Suddenly my thoughts
leap 5000 miles across oceans and seas

to where my son now lives.

In a land full of palm trees and beaches and super moons
at night.

Suddenly my heart aches a little for him.

The distance, so acute.

I look up.

You are home.

All the bright angels
dance around your head.