Classic Poem

I wish I could find one hill so high
That the air there
would chill blood
until it ceased flowing
and flesh was about it
hard cold enduring patient
Then the sun would take a long time to warm
much longer than a woman
And I might not shiver when the moon came
Spreading cold limbs on an unwarmed bed
Her stiff breasts and shoulders already given
To the full heavy shadow of the dead.