Friday, March 06, 2015
The tree grew lonely when the birds flew
Twenty feet tall pride, damned its root
Friend or foe with times, they were
Stationary birth could be cursed too
Why such fate among strangers, who meet
We make oath for such betide, eternity they breach
Then they leave as per their heights, playful sky
What happens to the branch which went undraped
Some feathers for farewell or souvenir?
In the wind or the storm
Their songs will repeat every year ..