poem for dad

let me move slowly through the street
daughters of time
they threw a stone, you threw a stone
rising moon has hid the stars
be in me as the eternal moods
out of me unworthy and unknown
as evening falls
the pale day drowses on the western steep
i have heard that a certain princess
why are the things that have no death
blossoms of babies
we break the glass whose sacred wine
up from the meadows rich with corn
afraid no more, i say