friend poetry

still thirteen years
i never knew the earth had so much gold
at midnight
i've won the race
gone before us
i saw you hunched and shivering on the stones
what was it the engines said
i burn no incense
when sea-winds pierced our solitudes
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
let us pity those who are better off than we are
what shall we do now
death's nobility again
high-born race