The Little Bird On My Grate

Morning’s when I got up dull and dry

Once came a tiny bird on my window grate

Singing sweet and chirping high

With all, it’s joy fulfilling

Hopping with those petite limbs, here and there

Flew away the moment I came by

Smaller than my palm

It flew high without any fear

Though it knew the blue sky had strokes and sharp spears

Rested in its bough on the leaves of a big brown bark

Peacefully slept because it was never scared of the dark

But one morning there wasn’t the lovely singing and hopping

And when I look out I witness the big brown tree falling.