def poetry jam

never in all my life
lived by the river-side
daughter, thou art come to die
see i give myself to you
we lay
by the rude bridge
the air is full of dawn and spring
and my name is truthful
for then without
white foam flower, red flame flower
full of tears
you are beautiful and faded
in an old chamber softly lit
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me