free poem

i sometimes wonder if it's really true
death's nobility again
if the red slayer think he slays
those black eyes i once so praised
do not grieve that it is over
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
the body may confine
three years ago today
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
better than granite
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
and with the humming bird
on and on