The bay of Cascais

The Bay of Cascais

Her mother was
in a hole in
the wall
with a glass door,
there was dust on
the brown coffin
and on
the wax flowers;
the frame,
on her
mother picture,
was rusty.

While she
cleaned and
prayed
I looked out at
the bay
it was serene,
shrouded
in a blue miasma.
keeping
the secret of
eternal life
to itself.