concrete poetry

sweet with fern and rose
they in the darkness gather and ask
over the river they beckon to me
which keeps
master of human destinies am i
their beautiful hair
when a deed is done for freedom
wrap the earth in cloudy weather
calm as that second summer
death's nobility again
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
there is no escape by the river
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white