def poetry jam

sleep, gray brother of death
eighty years have passed, and more
i stood by the open casement
do you hear the rain?
i heard the wind all day
i flung my soul to the air like a falcon flying
i know what you're going to say
a few more windy days
in their ragged regimentals
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
there is a country full of wine
roses and gold
my sorrow, when she's here with me