sympathy poem

which keeps
friend, whose smile has come to be
a storm is riding on the tide
out of me unworthy and unknown
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
in an old chamber softly lit
i shake my hair in the wind of morning
stay no more
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
on and on
i said
are you awake?
she has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness