The Saddest Line's I Write At Night Poem by James McLain

The only flower left and I.
One fur trapper, hungry and in need, crosses over.
And the winding, shallow creek.
Being heavy, Is it thus?
And when it by it comes when two are touched?
Seasons pass, It ends like this, entirely.
The water by you warm it blows.
Falling leaves float by this,
and changing winds to laughter, lost in this, has been.
Feelings falling petals from the sky.
Japan and China.
And after, frost comes snow it dances, as it melts
and then it comes it must again.
Gestures from the hand and loveliness.
Watching I the waves from which you wander there about.
The glory to his which she leaves behind are blinding white.
And has it not been cut of it, thereoff, of all it's luster,
width and standing under is the night, it shines with peace
and which if known were gathered softly up.
By all whom come, too know it now.
When it water flows to all whom know, rushing by you.