poems

i saw you hunched and shivering on the stones
within my hand i hold
no prey am i of poor thoughts
she might have known it in the earlier spring
let me move slowly through the street
these be
the saddest of the year
i am old and blind
sing again the song you sung
in the sphere
simply speaking
i saw the first pear
do you remember
let us pity those who are better off than we are