Sailing solemnly
on the gray gales
of May; he walked
the tear-touched street.
The light of the lamps
shone rays of defeat
The headlights shone
in the same way,
over the road
beaming with water.
A crossing, alone
in the same way,
a fast car drove,
speeding ever surer.
In Heaven the headlights
are the warmth of an
unbroken home.
Laying in a sun-touched river,
no longer to cry, never to shiver.
In Heaven the lamp-lights
are beacons of hope
for love we once held
on fluorescent waves
without a doubt.