nature poem

if it
at dawn, he said
it was the autumn of the year
i shake my hair in the wind of morning
your body's motion is like music
i have heard them in the night
one by one, like leaves from a tree
see, they return
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
daughter, thou art come to die
i have to say good-night
there were three in the meadow by the brook
we were not many