Wind and Absence

Down wind, down wind, a soft sweep of hours
Trawling in time. My pulse races into darkness.

Adrift, I draw your absence close about me;
Take the small ghosts of your hands to mine.

Your voice, your smile: such son et lumière.
My nerves conduct you round my floodlit bones.

Certain salt-water fools pester my eyes:
I stub them out with rough, dumb fingers.
...