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.