baby poem

evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
out of the deep and the dark
why do you always stand there shivering
she might have known it in the earlier spring
beneath the warrior's helm
when night drifts along the streets of the city
your body's motion is like music
hang no wreath
grieve not for the invisible
long ago, in the young moonlight
up from the south at break of day
i go my way complacently
we were not many
the body may confine