We have built an altar
Filled it full of pictures
And crosses
Her pale blue eyes
Stare at it
I wonder if she prays
In her head
I do
It is like falling asleep
In a field
Dressed in white
White birds circling
A shadow on the day
I dream of reaching
The top of the stairs
My feet are bare
The wooden floor cuts
Into my soles
On the wall is
A painted angel
An old man leans over
His back to her
We would like to live in
The abandoned house
Nothing about us
Except water and hills
Maybe there is a boat
Or somebody walking
Up to their waist in
Red balloons
The wolf follows us
In our dreams
A moment frozen
The gentle lapping of the river
I sway
And gently pray
Hope that all things good will come
Today.
