turned

i saw you back turned
sat upon the high prospect
contemplating the provinces and treatise
of life unfolding in the soft curves of the far off
hills of dreams which would never becomes mountains
and would be cloven by slow dipped rivers of tears
in whose cup the bloods of sorrow are mixed
and the bane and burden of its consequence
weighed like many nights and many heavens
in your mind
balanced against the thunder fears of deepening storm rays
flashing against your silhouette
weighing heavy on your being
curved like a bow with its stress
and buttressed by the lines upon your sad brow

how i love you
how i hate to see you like this