sad love poem

pharaoh, king of egypt's land
let me move slowly through the street
there was never a sound beside the wood but one
where shall i find you
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor
this ancient silver bowl of mine
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
she heard the children playing in the sun
from floor to ceiling
weak-winged is song
to some the fat gods
look out upon the stars, my love