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.