Words To That Effect
The drive down was smooth
but after we arrived things started to go haywire,
first one thing and then another. The days
scudded past like tumbleweed, slow then fast,
then slow again. The sky was sweet and plain.
You remember how still it was then,
a season putting its arms into a coat and staying unwrapped
for a long, a little time.
It was during the week we talked about deforestation.
How sad that everything has to change,
yet what a relief, too! Otherwise we'd only have
looking forward to look forward to.
The moment would be a bud
that never filled, only persevered
in a static trance, before it came to be no more.
We'd walked a little way in our shoes.
I was sure you'd remember how it had been
the other time, before the messenger came to your door
and seemed to want to peer in and size up the place.
So each evening became a forbidden morning
of thunder and curdled milk, though the invoices
got forwarded and birds settled on the periphery.
I tell myself I'm a minimalist.
Not that it matters to the big guns
who train their sights on us,
who also know about tomorrow and their brothers,
and had a pretty good run. It would be that time
in the future, that was predicted. The wearing of boater hats
had become fairly commonplace, like going to the park.
Children ran errands while adults went to the movies.
There were more sights along the strand than at first
imagined. Nobody ever heard of an alternative
to these dingy, then bright vignettes.
We slept well and fell into an uneasy dialogue,
like the United States and Canada. Then mild everything.
The runner is already here,
has been for some time, awaiting instructions.
If it was my turn I'd go, but since that is
out of the question, I'll merely keep my counsel,
looking for some converted to preach to.
The other thing, your happiness program, fits in
with the recent trend for self-expression. All in good time.
Why is parting, then, permitted?