inspirational poetry

i stand in the cold gray weather
do the boys and girls still go
i am the wind that wavers
i hold your heart
and my name is truthful
that year
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
come down at dawn from windless hills
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
wheel me down by the meadow
she heard the children playing in the sun
rising moon has hid the stars