In Dreams

I'm dodging through
An airport-- it looks like
San Francisco--
Ann?

At twenty,
Black hair, eyes blacker yet,
Her skin a pale
Gold, heat rising from it!

How many years?
Hair, dress in style, the woman
Fulfilling
The promise of the girl.

Ann waits. I stand.
Held by her eyes, I shift.
Then, my eldest son...
Fast forward.

Waking.
Squeezing my eyes tight, not to.
Unable to return.
Unable to say goodbye.