poetry form

suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways
she must go back, she said
beautiful
as a naked man i go
do not grieve that it is over
little gate was reached at last
now that i have cooled to you
happiness
risen from the dead
fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
all those treasures that lie
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
the pale day drowses on the western steep