best friend poem

i stood by the open casement
it was many and many a year ago
earth travails
fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room
white foam flower, red flame flower
quietly, with reverance, in awe
she must go back, she said
but i cannot read you now
that strange companion came on shuffling feet
the pale day drowses on the western steep
my mother taught me that every night
i had a dream and i awoke with it