poetry poem

do you remember
the darkness rolls upward
gloom
we who stood
up and down he goes
the pale day drowses on the western steep
sweet with fern and rose
candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
i cannot always feel his greatness
what do i owe to you
there's one that i once loved so much
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
babylon-where i go dreaming
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor