This looks like a good place
where we can clear the rocks away and burn the brush
and if we look to the distance
we can see the ocean
not close enough to taste it but
always a reminder as it covers us
with a blanket like a caring parent
after we have slept.
So we'll build a house here
you and I far from the days in which
our home was just a dream
we had on the other side of that mother ocean
the children we will raise will be
the best in the world
and if should one die before we give them a name
we won't tell
but just silently mourn.
And when one of us has to leave
there won't be a note
brutal in departure because sometimes you can love too much
so you don't want to see them to suffer
their memory fading like the stones that pave the garden
all that's left is the sparkle in the eyes of the grandchildren
their brown legs mottled with dirt
as they chatter away in the psuedodesert sun
they take a moment
to survey the cute view around them
and think to themselves
this looks like a good place.