memorial poem

do you hear the rain?
i've won the race
did you ever hear of
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
in your flight
be not angry with me
one by one, like leaves from a tree
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
sad are they who know not love
when sea-winds pierced our solitudes
all my love for my sweet
the meadow was creeping
the body may confine