poetry anthology

in september
that strange companion came on shuffling feet
what spiteful chance steals unawares
i loved a woman
my mother twines me roses wet with dew
had he and i but met
do not turn your head
i walk down the garden paths
i have seen the proudest stars
the shadows of the ships
it was a tall young oysterman
suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways
musing, between the sunset and the dark
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars