halloween poem

skies they were ashen and sober
i have cast the world
in all things not spoken of
your body's motion is like music
up from the meadows rich with corn
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
hang no wreath
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
the dawn was apple-green
a few more windy days
for then without
like eagles on up high
musing, between the sunset and the dark