For Arline who lost her little boy

Across the hills of gray and white,
Little boy with lantern bright,
Sun sinks recessive into night.

White hobby horses made of cloud
Came down from Heaven to do you proud.
I dared not cry my tears aloud,

Lest wind should bear them up to you,
Upon the hearth smoke of the flue,
And color all your Heavens blue.

Sandra Fowler

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/white-hobby-horses-do-you-proud/