halloween poem

she knows a cheap release
dear wife
have you seen walking through the village
i shake my hair in the wind of morning
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
friend, whose smile has come to be
night was black and drear
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
days endeared to every muse
in halls of sleep you wandered by
sadly speaking
before the solemn bronze saint
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon