kid poem

blossoms of babies
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
in may
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
i saw with open eyes
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
i had over-prepared the event
are you awake?
out of the sparkling sea
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
she must go back, she said
there was never a sound beside the wood but one
if i should die, think only this of me