child poem

do not turn your head
simply speaking
through the broad earth's aching breast
let me be sad
one by one, like leaves from a tree
by the shore, by the sea
bring me soft song
muffled drum's sad roll has beat
for these white arms about my neck
it was a tall young oysterman
tell me less or tell me more
my sorrow, when she's here with me
a look is but a ray
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces