christmas poems

out of the deep and the dark
come down at dawn from windless hills
the shadows of the ships
calm as that second summer
roses and gold
when i go back to earth
little gate was reached at last
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
i saw you hunched and shivering on the stones
darkest, strangest mystery
though i am little as all little things
along the banks
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
let me move slowly through the street