Is it a death to know you gone,
	  Separation's wail at the verge
	  Where tide on tide may pile and merge
While I sigh unsolaced, alone?

It is death, or death's live semblance
	  To trade high love for sorrow's hole,
	  To peer in pits for the absent soul,
Braver laughter, a brother's glance.

Yet others before have I lost,
	  Their unsyllabled all made death's,
	  Pilfered lives that in coffins rest,
Nor can I reckon up the cost.

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Poems in pieces

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