Happy people, happy perhaps
to greet again; happy at the end
of an absence, after that
unreachable span is breached
by touch, a caring hand,
a warming smile of welcome.
Or maybe after that trip to the Orient,
after that manifest rest in tiresome
spaces, places where a simple glance
cannot reassure, happy again to be
greeted by someone whose lack
of ‘being-here’ caused obscure
feelings-of-discontent – was
never-meant to sully friendship
– or maybe happy despite all that.
Whichever way they are happy
they are the stimulant I need; I am
happy just to be with them.
© I.D. Carswell 2006
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