kid poem

what was it the engines said
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
noises that strive to tear
the mountains they are silent folk
in mournful numbers
i flung my soul to the air like a falcon flying
just as my fingers on these keys
who will be naming the wind
i went up and down the streets
those black eyes i once so praised
her face is fair and smooth and fine
as it
rocked in the cradle of the deep
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon