def poetry jam

thoughts through my head
since i have felt the sense of death
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
stuff of the moon
she limps with halting painful pace
along a river-side
when night drifts along the streets of the city
sweet and strong
into the silent land
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
when freedom from her mountain height
my mother taught me that every night
through the broad earth's aching breast
she burst fierce wine