Written The Weekend Of The Downs,  The Night After Her Miscarriage

my wings cradled her
curves of tender air,
and the earth
circled us like death,
patient,
hungry,
deliberate
 
as a prayer
while we slept
in a room East
of the river
where blacktop turned
to dirt and ash
and fell like a feather
against the morning
 
cathedral bells
tolled 12 times
as she slipped a
jeweled comb into
her red hair,
removed her cross
and planted dog roses
in our barrow