1014 (C.E.)
If we lived one thousand years ago,
We would have grown up in a small village;
Me, forced into choosing a life trade from childhood,
You, trained to be a uterus.
I would have fallen in love with you instantly,
Your filthy, matted hair covering
Your pale, disease riddled face.
I would want you to be mine.
I would write poetry about you in the moonlight
Peeking through the straw thatching of my roof.
My father would find it an destroy it.
“You will be a mason, like our fathers, not a pansy.”
I would have studied well, I would have worked hard
To learn how to create, how to build.
I would steal you in the dead of night,
Unprepared with an empty food satchel
And a heart full of love.
We would escape to the woods,
But wolves, weather and wilderness
Could never frighten us.
For we would have one another.
And we would need all the help we could provide.
We would build a little shack,
Of mortar, stone and wood,
Walls made from sweat, foundations from hope,
Doors to keep out the world.
How could any system of measurement
Be made to ascertain the amount of love
We would have for one another
In our tiny forest palace?
How could any bard or songstress
Know how close they had come
To the perfection they so longed for?
Together we would spend our years,
Though short they undoubtedly they would be.
But though famine, flood, gangrene, herpes,
Infections, gonorrhea, diarrhea, food poisoning,
Influenza, the plague and pretty much just breathing
Could steal our lives away,
Nothing could take away the loving essense
That we would pour into every cranny and nook
Of that little shack,
That castle among the trees.
Now, one thousand years later,
The castle has long since turned
To dust and sand and memory.
But the ancient particles are used,
Like our long rotted bones,
To grow the trees and feed the rivers
That still shadow and boarder
Our resting place.
And in that way our royal legacy
Will live forever.
(2014)
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