Was this the life?

Was this the life we dreamed together when we first met?

Was this old dog, who chases squirrels only in his sleep,

the one that we imagined walking?

Were these the children, nearing middle age, whose names

we chose on our third date?

Do these four walls enclose the space in which we planned

to spend our shining days?

Were these the bodies we expected to inhabit when time

had done its worst, or very nearly?

Was this – the life we’ve lived – our why? and our because?






I think it was, my love, I think it was.