black poetry

like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
up from the south at break of day
gone are the three, those sisters rare
when the wind works against us in the dark
are you awake?
when, full of warm and eager love
a life on the ocean wave
world that changes under my hand
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
the air is like a butterfly
tripping up, falling down
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you