sister poem

two rows of cabbages
sun stepped down from his golden throne
gone before us
the snow whispers about me
sleep, gray brother of death
all down the years
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
the pale day drowses on the western steep
one sweetly solemn thought
be patient, life, when love is at the gate
she must go back, she said
i was a goddess ere the marble found me
to some the fat gods