concrete poetry

uplifting, as the wind blew
out of the window a sea of green trees
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
the mountains they are silent folk
daughter, thou art come to die
in the cloud-gray mornings
therefore i may not
tell me
short and sweet, and we've come to the end of it
i wonder where you live
i was a goddess ere the marble found me
have you seen walking through the village
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow