in a house on a windswept hill.
The husband watches his ghost reflection
in the dilapitated living room window
as a torrent of rain furiously sweeps across.
His wife is confined to the bed, soft tomb,
he has too much time to contemplate doom
imagining bleak scenarios to come
as the indifferent oak hisses and water
drips from the ceiling like tears
yet it was once a dwelling full of mirth:
a photograph shows the couple smiling
with their child, it used to be a good life
but he will smile for the world...and his wife.