death poem

before the solemn bronze saint
as it
leave the lovely words unsaid
are you awake?
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
all day to watch the blue wave curl and break
there is a city, builded by no hand
lived by the river-side
and my name is truthful
noises that strive to tear
where shall i find you
rose and amber was the sunset on the river
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought