I want to say it will always be you
but always is never true.
What I do know is that when we talk
and kiss in quiet dream flashes,
when you touch the small of my back
and I pour your coffee first,
I am a succulent, soaking up your light.
I want to say that I will never walk away
but never is never true.
What I do know is that we reap what we sow
(or so you’ve told me)
and we have to dispose of the radioactive waste properly
or the yard will begin to glow
even as our sweet light goes out.
I want to say that I know how things will go
but knowing is never true.
Here’s what is true:
your daughter, going on seven
and after that a thousand tomorrows,
rode her own bike today to school.
And your other daughter has the face
you wore forty years ago.
And you and I –
we can turn to face each other
remembering what we
forever ago knew.
This, our life. This, our life.
The one where you keep finding me
the one where I keep seeing you
The one where the seasons turn
and the earth freezes and thaws
and we call each other out
and call out to each other
even from afar.
Discover me again.
I’m an animal in a den,
the wind turning in your ear,
a feast, a flood, a torrent of tears.