Bird

Folder: 
A New View

.

Each morning now you sing

for an hour, high and pure

voiced, like the only reason

air and morning were invented.

you sing for me.

.

Music was invented to 

approximate your oratory

that is the h in hope,

the h in heartbeat.

you sing for me.

.

I do not hear the song's

end, it goes invisible

in its lulling. Tomorrow

you will return and encore.

you will sing for me.

.

~S~

Author's Notes/Comments: 

True event last two days. 

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