be still, listen, angels cry
a siphon of regrets-
soaked in cherry poison
poured upon our heads

hover, silent sleepers,
be sure the rest are due-
from ribbons tied, now frozen
time’s as cynical as you

and there, quiet, listen-
between the gardens green,
hear their whispers calling
to where the pigeons preen

though the ivy’s ever thicker
and the lily-pads, mildew-
our laughs forever echo
you and i, each, unto-

our secrets, rooted evermore
at the base of the wattle tree
heres where we lie forever
hand in hand, for eternity