With Her I Came Poem by James McLain

I die in the bright night at all the wrong times
And the vibrating around the ribs
I came with her to her soft silken rainy
Sadly she said unto me
Do in to me and if you should tilt me
Take me over on to the edge
if you must dropp me then please may I ask you
Wash it off out of my hair
And the disappointment which makes getting wet
however, I do not worry about leaving
Because the wood where the leaf
like the sky are so many is peace
When the rain bends under the large branch,
and rather than being silent
and be kindhearted if ever it is now be I die