I light the sky above our bed for you
with seven stars of gold, ploughing
the deep for you - and that's not so hard
when you are the sea.

I rock in my ribs here in your absence,
my heart like a diesel thudding away
and you at the helm, friend and guide
steering through for me.

I'll sleep now, soon, under seven stars,
the plough in the night dipping towards you,
your ghost on deck above holding our course,
your bones asleep in me.

My blue pillow is wrapped in your shirt
and my head is bedded in the scent of your hair;
I'll make your hair a sail to carry me
from here to over there.