anniversary poetry

my soul is a dark ploughed field
my sorrow, when she's here with me
for these white arms about my neck
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
made up of loveliness alone
friend, whose smile has come to be
with the meek, brown eyes
the shadows of the ships
so lost
we lay
perhaps
death's nobility again