friend poem

with the meek, brown eyes
let me be sad
along a river-side
my sorrow, when she's here with me
i shake my hair in the wind of morning
once this soft turf
into the silent land
she limps with halting painful pace
when i was a boy at college
often i think of the beautiful town
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
love me at last, or if you will not
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things