Once upon a time . . .
we played husband and wife
aged beyond our years
on so many levels
every morning we arrived
(stepped into black-and-white yesterdays
in gilt-silver frames)
every night we were fourteen again
(in separate homes
wrinkles and gray hair ran down the drain)
we were stiff and shy
not used to pretending on such a lofty scale
Once between a time . . .
i wore black and sang of yesterdays
hours before my grandmother’s funeral
you danced the lawnmower tie-dyed
the last time I saw you
(alas, all acts end)
we could have been
we should have stayed
(each eventually faded
out of the other’s spotlight)
Now once beyond a time . . .
reading Dickinson and James
(the script pages ruffle)
i remember melodramatic yesterdays
(all that glitters
is not emerald)
somewhere on a sepia-colored prairie
your Emily waits for her Henry
