life poem

i am fevered
the little white prayers
do the boys and girls still go
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
one by one, like leaves from a tree
wrap the earth in cloudy weather
i stood by the open casement
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
i had over-prepared the event
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
what was it the engines said
i walk down the garden paths
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
in may