your face
your face, and the god-curst sun, and a tree
and the sun was
and the sun was white, as though chidden of god
your eyes
your eyes on me were as eyes that rove
and a few leaves
and a few leaves lay on the starving sod
they had fallen
they had fallen from an ash, and were grey
and a pond
and a pond edged with greyish leaves
wrings with
wrings with wromg
the smile on
the smile on your mouth was the deadest thing
alive enough
alive enough to have strength to die
like an ominous
like an ominous bird a wing