We returned home
You with a raincoat, me a permanent cough
Put less and less clothes on, could not decide whether or not we wanted to walk to the ends of the earth
Or if perhaps we’d rather rest in our own backyard dirt

Our neighbour gave us cherries after every full moon
I sat and sucked the pits as you sharpened your harpoon
You sang a sudden soliloquy of sorrow, “must I arm myself with this weapon again tomorrow?”

The weather station blared that another war would be coming
Some scattered clouds, a little sun, and then it would be storming
I tried to plan our escape while you went off to fight
Gathered what I could: some tenderness, some twine

I set to task, quilting a patchwork of memories
A swath of cloth, a fold untold, a riot of reverie
It came in bursts, I kept what worked, at least I was occupied
You fought the fight then every night I held you while you cried
While you cried