The dead were glad of our company,
And we were glad of theirs,
They understood the true worth of love
as only the dead can.
The steaming breath of the storm,
Teasing: Roused and cajoled
The living green about us.
We shared food,
Burned incense,
Drank the wine of our kisses.
Under the dark and timeless yew.
With eyes full of light and sorrow,
We drew the last measures of beauty
From the ashes of the world.
Love and the music of the stars
Burned and quivered,
In our fingers, in our eyes, in our wind blow hair.
