But here we are
together in this space

I used to think of as mine,
but now I think of as ours

because you’re here
and she is not.

It’s as if someone said,
Do not wish for any other life.

This is the one you’ve been walking toward
with every step, every breath,

though you could not have foreseen that.
You weren’t to know until it was time.

And when we landed here together,
you unsure of your place in my life

and I in yours, as you’ve gotten
closer to me, I wrap myself in

thankfulness when you come to me
with a small cry. I’m learning what

you want—you over there,
me over here teasing you with

the feather boa on a stick, rising
on your haunches to snatch

the pretend birdie out of the air.
And, when you’re played out,

you flop on your side, looking
as though you might be pleased

that we’ve ended up sharing
this time, this space,

these precious lives,
for as long as we have them.