Eight Days In Fall

I've just returned from a visit with my daughter and grandson, which prompted this sonnet... Blind were my eyes overflowing with tears How swiftly they flew, those eight days in Fall My heart feeling pinpricks of wounding spears from goodbye kisses and hugs I recall A kiss on his cheek and then another Innocence slept as I whispered goodbye I held tight to the arms of his mother, my daughter and I sorrowfully wept I will hear his voice for several days, "Gonna kick that silly ball down the field." A three year old giving thumbs up then says, "I scored two goals, Nana!" Oh, how he squealed. Leaving loved ones is a pierce to my heart, an ache between visits, so far apart.