romantic poem

noises that strive to tear
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
glass-blower of time
i saw the first pear
have we no shame?
i've won the race
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
over the river they beckon to me
my mother taught me that every night
in their ragged regimentals
in the sphere
she limps with halting painful pace
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white