love poems

the old west, the old time
rose and amber was the sunset on the river
full of tears
in all things not spoken of
glooms of the live-oaks
the saddest of the year
the hypocritic days
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
who will be naming the wind
if the red slayer think he slays
passing through huddled and ugly walls
but i cannot read you now
wrap the earth in cloudy weather
let me be sad