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.

Before Our First Kiss

We didn’t know. How
could we?  I could be 

in the midst 

of another halo
shadow over hours 

untold. Could be
at the nudge 

and pause as they ripen
inside a green house 

beneath a green roof.
His lips could be 

ready, and I would be unpainted 

and preoccupied
with this spot on a Formica 

table top. An imaginary island
in an imaginary sea.