brother poem

sitting in his rocker waiting for your tea
i flung my soul to the air like a falcon flying
why do you always stand there shivering
from song and dream for ever gone
sleep, gray brother of death
high walls and huge
there is an hour of peaceful rest
lived by the river-side
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
the rain was over, and the brilliant air
to come so soon to this imagined dark