elements of poetry

blossoms of babies
they threw a stone, you threw a stone
along a river-side
i went up and down the streets
it tells of good old times
give me hunger
with her hair flaying wildly
it was a tall young oysterman
i stood by the open casement
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
all day to watch the blue wave curl and break
the lightning flashed, and lifted
i said, i have shut my heart
of sun nor stars