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haiku poem

how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
let us pity those who are better off than we are
in the dark and peace of my final bed
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
a mile behind
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
i love to steal awhile away
as a naked man i go
often is it not so?
awful truths these be
beside a stricken field
through the broad earth's aching breast
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
skies they were ashen and sober

 



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