father poem

in an old chamber softly lit
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
all down the years
out of the deep and the dark
into the silent land
why then, must we see?
last midnight
take my bracelets
i saw with open eyes
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
to some the fat gods
wrap the earth in cloudy weather
with the sunset
from song and dream for ever gone