grandma poem

the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
what was it the engines said
their beautiful hair
out of the deep and the dark
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
those black eyes i once so praised
when i was a boy at college
musing, between the sunset and the dark
splendid and terrible your love
one with you
love has been sung a thousand ways
listen to the sounding sea
under a spreading chestnut tree