As your front line eroded,
someone else gained an edge.
Only a brisk swim at dawn
could return the equilibrium
your grandparents hoped you’d find.
Just one more question, then I promise
to let you rest in peace:
What did you do with the green
house once you sold off
those last blooms and colors
after your private war had ended?
I like to imagine you may drift
across its threshold
on particularly windy mornings.