Both of us, but can you imagine?

Both of Us, But Can You Imagine?

You could want suburban home, laundered, pressed and fixed

And I remain in surly concrete, or you might hate the backyard

Digging hole in the middle of yard--or I might--but the muds ooze

With rain, from the window:  Engineers losing ground, cackling

Vacations to the ruins, colonial poverty, beggars ingratiating

Palms to humid skies, or the iced cakes of cruises and pearls

And dynasty rooms ordained in packages by agent, or maybe

On the highway, kayaks hurling free from their racks like storks

Nature, sand’s edge at water, camping pit toilets, how bugs visit

At night, listening for our breathing to calm before assaulting us

Or one of us--can you imagine what if only one of us?  Both

As a marvel of our swollen lips at morning, can taste the same

Inconsiderations, how you stoke up fire.  How I veer off cliffs

In the Rockies, sailing back and forth as a playing card swoops

Can you imagine what if only one of us careened downward?

But the two of us, big headedly, watching the children, muddied