short poem

a bird sang
to come so soon to this imagined dark
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
i do not pray for peace
sitting in his rocker waiting for your tea
it was the autumn of the year
often is it not so?
that strange companion came on shuffling feet
perhaps
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
a thousand silent years ago
have we no shame?
under a spreading chestnut tree
for truth, for love