Another Time
I was sitting, wondering,
my head on my hands
when the thought struck me
of the two of us, so lost
the one to the other.
If we had been born
in another time, I'm sure,
I'm so sure, we would have married --
Your hands moving the veil
back from my dark hair.
My smile flourishing so easily
beneath your workman's hands.
I could see myself
waiting at the door for you
and seated in a parlor,
my stitching in my hands
four small black-crowned heads
crowded around my skirts
their hair the same shade
my grandmother's had been.
But the truth is:
we were born in this time
so we fell apart.
Copyright © Sam Mayhue | Year Posted 2011
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