memorial poem

gone are the three, those sisters rare
uplifting, as the wind blew
over the rooftops race the shadows of clouds
now that i have cooled to you
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
a bird sang
i shake my hair in the wind of morning
see, they return
not from the whole wide world
the pale day drowses on the western steep
gone before us
my soul is a dark ploughed field
among the mountains i wandered
wrap the earth in cloudy weather