Have we lingered in their attic floors?

On hearts of angels, have we trod?
Heavier-sorrows than the weight-of-sod
have we lingered in their attic floors?
To glimpse, hear, behind their doors.

The sound of the vesper-bells upon their toes
have we glued our hearts decomposed?
Sifted through shadows only He knows
still yet find ourselves, juxtaposed.

Any learning uniform wind commands.
Oh, such a bounty is in-store pre-tax
if we can exert a torque force of love
might we discover the wings of a dove?