fall poetry

they ask me where i've been
sad are they who know not love
listen to the sounding sea
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
of sun nor stars
the air is full of dawn and spring
in the cloud-gray mornings
pharaoh, king of egypt's land
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
she heard the children playing in the sun
among the mountains i wandered
since i have felt the sense of death
a little peach in the orchard grew