child poetry

i walk down the garden paths
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
i am dying
made up of loveliness alone
a little peach in the orchard grew
for then without
now that i have cooled to you
out of the window a sea of green trees
over the river they beckon to me
did you ever see an alligator
i had over-prepared the event
a storm is riding on the tide
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces