online poetry

behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
at dawn, he said
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
some one complained to the master
i have known the silence of the stars and of the sea
there are gains for all our losses
gone before us
my son is dead and i am going blind
gone are the three, those sisters rare
she said
soft as the bed in the earth
let a joy keep you
i wonder where you live