halloween poem

and with the humming bird
were it not for that singular smell
beneath the warrior's helm
doubtless i remember still
she knows a cheap release
all those treasures that lie
wheel me down by the meadow
there is an hour of peaceful rest
i know what you're going to say
we lay
this is the song of youth
with the meek, brown eyes
let me move slowly through the street
birds against the april wind