While we were kissing that year, the icebergs were sleeping,
the penguins dreaming, dancing so slowly
they were hardly breathing.
We were whiling our time!
While you were striking a match,
a small and lonely coastal state drifted out of sight.
Love was gained and lost,
while we were mowing the lawn.
While is a glacier melting.
It never seemed to end, but there it is, gone!
It’s the deepest word at the shallow end of the pool,
where a mother stands knee-deep with the child
most likely to go under.
You were washing dishes during the insurrection,
polishing a stone while the century turned
and then the new millennium.
That’s a good grandfather, to remember the trenches,
with their scent of a different pandemic,
a little bit like walnuts, with the slightest hint of death.
He lived a long time to forget about us,
to dream completely each breath.