Last night I saw my mom and dad.
We had a lovely chat.
Laughing, joking, carrying on...
We’re always good at that.
 
Dad, without his oxygen tank,
Had no trouble walking.
He spoke of books and politics
And had no trouble talking.
 
Mom dashed about her kitchen
Busily preparing
Some delectable treat to serve.
(I even heard her swearing.)
 
Such visits happen now and then.
Sometimes it even seems
As though they’re real and not occurring
ONLY in my DREAMS.
 
Why Mom and Dad are in a dream,
I don’t have a clue.
But I love to see them; it's
The best that I can do.
 
It’s hard to believe that eighteen years
Ago they passed away.
It’s strange; it almost seems as though
It happened yesterday.
 
Healthy, strong, invincible,
Robust, and never sad,
Philosophizing, loving, caring—
That’s how I see Dad.
 
No less loving, but more pensive
And never brash or gushy,
Mom expresses love through actions.
She’s kind, but never mushy.
 
These dreamy reunions I will cherish
Until my memory fades;
Or until life decides
It's time to pull the shades.

- by Bob B