short poem

under a spreading chestnut tree
there was never a sound beside the wood but one
and with the humming bird
there are gains for all our losses
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
gingham dog and the calico cat
it was many and many a year ago
the body may confine
sadly speaking
gone before us
when the wind works against us in the dark
that year
but i cannot read you now
they threw a stone, you threw a stone