some daily language

NEAR THE END OF THE COLD WAR

The minutes and days hung like hose water
droplets from my nose, the divide
was imperceptible between having
to dig out weeds together with a trowl
and us brothers turning on each other
the lawn sprinkler head.

Even if all the days weren't summer,
the wintertime too illumined us like light
through the blankets we strung up
over chairs and shelves for a giant living
room enclave. We hid away like
Afgan rebels were. Pretending, believing;

now we have had to emerge.