This evening, I thought of you br after, how long, forty years: br you, sitting across the oak table br in the old forge's kitchen, that John had made br from salvaged shop fittings, br his sleeves rolled up, workmanly care br mixed on his face with amused dissatisfaction; br br you, looking across at me with a girlish joy br which, daughter, wife, mother, grandmother, br was always there – a girlish joy br that could hardly believe its luck br to find its understanding in another; br enthusiastic excitement rising like a blush; br then a little check of breath, as if br in company, courtesy required br it be controlled, or else br it would flood out and fill the room, br burst open the doors, out across the fields, br to seek out every other soul that welcomed it… br br in such a moment shared, (it is as if) br one knows everything one needs to know br of earth; of heaven.