dark poetry

tell me less or tell me more
darkest, strangest mystery
from our hidden places
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
why do
wheel me down by the meadow
in the dark and peace of my final bed
come down at dawn from windless hills
when i looked into your eyes
these be
the old west, the old time
daughter, thou art come to die
in your arms was still delight
backward, turn backward