You speak
I listen
I speak
You speak

Not one to fly in another's sky
Nor to fish the grounds of another herrings town
For I
I am a Rook
Meaning that often and alone I fly
Not high, but above
More pleasant fowl
For as keen eyes look
And occasionally see alone
With pinions dark as covered night
There is noone else at last to be found
Because we rooks, we mate for life
There is noone else for us alive

Hold me delicately,
Like the soft, leather petals
You caress between your fingertips,
And slip me in between the pages
Of your favorite love story
To keep me
Forever.

Oh, how I miss you,
Like flowers miss the sun.

The way the leaves on the branches
Miss the kiss
Of the cool breeze.