sad poetry

do not turn your head
when night drifts along the streets of the city
musing, between the sunset and the dark
long ago, in the young moonlight
my mother taught me that every night
i have known the silence of the stars and of the sea
there were three in the meadow by the brook
here falls no light
there was a strangeness on your lips
a pen of steel
since i have felt the sense of death
there's one that i once loved so much