mother daughter poem

for these white arms about my neck
see, from this counterfeit of him
burly, dozing humble-bee
with the sunset
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
moonlight deep and tender
as evening falls
you are beautiful and faded
high walls and huge
bring me soft song
were it not for that singular smell
stir
the dawn was apple-green
wrap the earth in cloudy weather