best friend poem

there are gains for all our losses
listen to the sounding sea
beautiful, tragical faces
they may talk of love in a cottage
up from the meadows rich with corn
there's one that i once loved so much
as a naked man i go
glooms of the live-oaks
there was never a sound beside the wood but one
the agony of having too much power
looking beyond
some one complained to the master
she heard the children playing in the sun
a few more windy days