halloween poem

risen from the dead
night was black and drear
i am singing to you
in his guarded tent
there was never a sound beside the wood but one
as evening falls
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
star-dust and vaporous light
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
though i am little as all little things
from song and dream for ever gone
do the boys and girls still go
glooms of the live-oaks