writing poetry

look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
into the silent land
skies they were ashen and sober
are you alive?
it was the autumn of the year
moonlight deep and tender
to clothe the fiery thought
not from the whole wide world
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
there's one that i once loved so much
under a spreading chestnut tree
and still they walked on
come down at dawn from windless hills
let us pity those who are better off than we are