The tears of heaven falling on the roof

of our family home as my wife

of slender darkness looked out beyond the

ghost trees, her gaze caught just

above the northern horizon, where the fishing boats

return in the grey still seas of morning.

I loved her, but the curtain rain upon

the window and the silence brought sleep,

our entwining legs formed a cross,

the swell of gentle sails upon my back,

the turning of the night.

Around our bodies the pure air of the room

and the unheard ringing of eternity.