The Innocent Sleep

When he was small
he loved the world,
found himself
in the shake of hills
that rippled out in slow folds.
Swam in the glassy waters of the lake
and dried himself
in the summer scented wheat.
The soft earth beneath the trees
formed to his body
and held him
in his restless sleep.

Then she came
and he loved her.
Hypnotised
by her motion,
pulled by the gentle sway
of her rhythm,
he sang the words,
he found a new beat.
She held him in soft arms,
formed to his body
and held him
in his tranquil sleep.

In their new song
they danced
and sang in harmony,
lines of intertwined melody.
Oceans of possibility
washed over them
and left them adrift
on the open seas of their sheets.
They lay in soft blankets
that formed to their bodies
and held them
in their untamed sleep.

She died on a bright day
in December.
He looked
to the world he had
before she came.
He wiped the dirt from his cold hands
and watched it
fall around his feet.
She lay in soft earth
that formed around her body
and held her
in an innocent sleep.