27 MARCH 2004, Page 58

In the Meantime

I see an old man walking down the street.

He is my son and is remembering me.

Now he is playing railways at my feet. . . . Spring comes. There's work to do: a bay tree To be moved, seeding the grass and pruning back — Those endless trivial things that multiply Through life itself: laughter and love and lack Of them, the hope, the loss, the mystery, The impending grief. Such matterings, petty And large, are what there is ....The light grows dim, The train has fallen off a bridge I see His son as evening comes remembering him. The world has got another trillion years to go, Or so they tell us. Well, that's good to know. Charles Chadwick