In another version of today,
there are feet of snow on the road.
We build a fire and do not leave
the house. Every word we speak
is a cognate of love, and all
we find to eat are dried cherries
and Saltines. We eat them from each other’s hands.
We make strong tea from last year’s mint leaves
and watch the world soften whitely outside.
There is summer in the way we gaze at each other,
so many paths yet to wander.
Ah love, that part is true.