My son arrived just now, his son in tow.
Our meetings are too few to keep abreast
of how our lives have shifted tone and flow
and how we had to change as we were stressed.
The love still shared was born with traits now faux
yet it abides in changeling sympathy.
Our differences are gulches set below
the bridging skeins of trust and empathy.
For there’s no judgment shown by we who know
we cannot let the facts malform the true,
its basking warmth enabling us to glow
in spite of lives that wandered off askew.