i miss you poem

all quiet along the potomac
they threw a stone, you threw a stone
my son is dead and i am going blind
high walls and huge
she must go back, she said
for these white arms about my neck
sadly speaking
dark-eyed
sing again the song you sung
sleep, gray brother of death
do i like it
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
arched the flood
their beautiful hair