Drifting Apart

There never were latches that spanned the sea

Securing land drifting away from me.

There never were latches that spanned the sea
Like the bridge stretching I-74
From the dark sylvan slough banking Moline

To the hilly base of the western door.

There never were latches that spanned the sea

To halt the ever-widening ravine

That runs New Hampshire and Holland between,
Keeping love waiting on the other shore
Just one mile away--not three thousand more

--Like the bridge stretching I-74.

There never were latches that spanned the sea.

Securing land drifting away from me.