Windy as news, at ends of a line,
When eyes are lone, exhausting,
A whisper once grew into dream
And all the world set fire in song.

Love came unbidden in a dour day,
When time was low and everlasting
And sorrow painted its oils on skin,
Framed a tableau as live as nothing.

Love flamed in boxed, hopeless air,
Little words she dropped then fairly
And I was rapt under crush of light,
By eyes, she gifted without shame.