suicide poetry

let us pity those who are better off than we are
i have known the silence of the stars and of the sea
over the river, on the hill
the shadows of the ships
i saw the first pear
my son is dead and i am going blind
this is the ship of pearl
the ships are lying in the bay
often i think of the beautiful town
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
i hold your heart
the endless, foolish merriment of stars
noises that strive to tear
be in me as the eternal moods