The World As It Is

Winter’s grey on a winter’s day, 

I shot a man in a winter’s fray.

He’s buried now at my winter stay, 

Beneath the children in winter’s play. 

“I get drunk, and I drive my wife away with a breath like mustard gas and roses.” 

— Kurt Vonnegut

Once upon a time, we danced.
A spin, a twirl, a tandem shuffle.
Time escapes us, lost
as we hold tight to each other.

Once upon a time, we laughed.
A giggle, a chuckle, an unexpected snort.
Time runs off,
turning now into then far too quickly. 

Once upon a time, you cried.
A wimper, a sob, a broken-hearted moan.
I dig for the words,
but helpless silence is all I find.

Once upon a time, you lied.
A secret, a denial, a subtle misdirection.
I discover the truth; 
it only makes me love you more.

Once upon a time, I struggled.
A crawl, a step, a slow but steady walk.
You’re silent more often than not,
but you drag me forward when I stumble.

Once upon a time, I knew.