romantic poem

very well, you liberals
let me move slowly through the street
do i like it
i gazed upon the glorious sky
a few more windy days
a storm is riding on the tide
do the boys and girls still go
candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
the mountains they are silent folk
but i cannot read you now
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree
in the dark and peace of my final bed
out of the deep and the dark