The Mourning of The Birds


The Mourning of The Birds - In Memory of Mrs. June

Her breathing fades.
In the winter, she is withering away.
But she sits under the shade
in the memories of warmer days.
She once was strong,
but her limbs are breaking.
She once blossomed in the spring,
but her time is calling.
Her birds have found their wings.
Before they fly back south,
she can hear them sing ...
A broken letter of how much they loved her.

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