Once Upon a Time
We were young incidentally, stumbling
into joy, he said. The sweetness of
our bodies was natural in the way
the sun came out of the Mediterranean
fresh every morning. We were acidentally
alive. A shape without a form.
We were a music composed of a melody,
without chords, played only on
the white keys. We thought excitement
was love, that intensity was marriage.
We meant no harm, but could see the women
only a little through the ardor and the hurry.
We were innocent, he said, baffled when
they let us kiss their tender mouths.
Sometimes they kissed back, even volunteered.
--Jack Gilbert
Refusing Heaven
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