poetry form

these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
he's gone
i saw god. do you doubt it?
burly, dozing humble-bee
if i were very sure
over the rooftops race the shadows of clouds
and with the humming bird
under a spreading chestnut tree
up from the meadows rich with corn
the ships are lying in the bay
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
i am dying
in the dark and peace of my final bed