Gone now, their light was spent
Before we walked the earth
To claim them beautiful.
No feather-colour fossils
...
You carried your smile that day
Over wild-shifting shingle
Which felt your unfinished hand
Dig to feel new-cold damp-smooth textures.
...
I may not
Unthread our tapestries,
Unsay the years between,
Unmake your loss,
...
They are building white apartments
At the entrance to the Boca Valley,
Where wrynecks still hang on
In unimaginable plumage subtlety
...