online poetry

she must go back, she said
who is the runner in the skies
i love my hour of wind and light
the rain was over, and the brilliant air
out of the window a sea of green trees
who loves the rain
this is the arsenal
there by the window in the old house
when the wind works against us in the dark
who will be naming the wind
in their ragged regimentals
before the solemn bronze saint
long has the summer sunlight shone
very well, you liberals