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.