“Loving Extremely” by Martin Willitts, Jr.

There is a second when the invisible
is visible. Light tilts, just the right way,
or our prayers intercede,
and we see someone dead that we love.

No one is certain why this happens,
but it happens more often than reported,
because people are afraid of being called crazy.
When we experience this offering,
we stifle the vision, wave it off,
pretend it never happened,
never talk about it again.

But when the dead visit us,
we want the moment to be still,
like a photograph. We want time to cease,
to crease open to spend time reminiscing,
ask questions, be assured, hug them,
never let them go, again.

But they must go,
and we will doubt strongly, again.
We will forget this ever happened.

The contact never lasts long —
a mere glimpse; an eye blink.

I’ve heard, if we love someone extremely,
they will return; we should never question
if or when this will happen.

Just in case, I slow waltz with my wife.