short poem

master of human destinies am i
the child who threw away leaf after leaf
over the river they beckon to me
the lightning flashed, and lifted
she must go back, she said
she might have known it in the earlier spring
the little white prayers
i have heard them in the night
that year
it was the autumn of the year
to some the fat gods
the endless, foolish merriment of stars
often is it not so?
therefore i may not