contemporary poetry

it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
a mile behind
if it
you are clear
have you heard
all within and all without me
look out upon the stars, my love
out of the deep and the dark
i went up and down the streets
it tells of good old times
death's nobility again
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
soft as the bed in the earth
wheel me down by the meadow