Palinode IV

Palinode IV


All the time
the air sacs

in my lungs
winked out

like lights
in an inhabited

valley,
the locks

of my heart
closed

at semi-regular
intervals,

my legs
waterlogged,

I thought,
I have no regrets

for living
the way I did, where I did.

The lights
blessed

the smoky Saturday dances
with the

implausibly
slim waists

of girls.
The canals

met us with boats
on their leisured

way
somewhere

to which our legs
would deliver us.

But we never
left the valley.

We bought a house,
paid for

by running
the machines maintaining

cool and comfortable
the valley air.

We had the two
of you,

as the valley said
to do.

And then, first,
the smog drifted

over
from the next valley

and choked to death
all our animals

and the smog,
staying years and years,

so long we had almost
acclimatized ourselves to it,

was followed
by the flood.

Image credit: CNN