Dieppe

A quarter past two and you wondered if

your body were a breeze or a breath of moonlight,

if your children drew on the tide in the harbour,

or the dew-covered garden in their dream work.

They lay like feathers in a single bed. And you, at once

the lady in the window and the woman moving

down the cobblestone lane to a pier beyond

the bulwarks and pilings, blending, step upon step,

your own colour and form into that nightscape.