Though nothing sharp can blur their outlines now,
Tentative brambled branches draw them near
To all the heaviness of life, but then allow
These flocks of wispy figures we hold dear
To pass as silhouettes. We think we see them there —
Their hands, black broadcloth vests, each smile we face
That we once knew; we stand and watch and stare;
They bow when shortened granite posts erase
Their names, so long incised. We are relieved
To see them dance within bright motes of sun.
They’ve come to welcome those who have believed.
The imminent reunion has begun.

Sally Cook is both painter and poet. Whether writ­ing or paint­ing, she keeps a sharp eye out for the psy­cho­log­i­cal por­trait. Her essays and poetry have been pub­lished in jour­nals such as The Chimera, Chron­i­cles, Con­tem­po­rary Son­net, Iambs & Trochees, Pivot, and The For­mal­ist Por­tal. Look for her in the next issue of Light Quar­terly. Cook’s review “Rhyming The Right”, of William Baer’s anthol­ogy “The Con­ser­v­a­tive Poets”, may be seen both in the cur­rent issue of The Uni­ver­sity Book­man and on its website.