There's a bird at your window.
Chest cloaked in a lush boastful yellow.
Timid dust brown feathered head,
with flurries of white laced around its neck.
There's a bird at your window.
Singing the echoes of blissful memories,
majestic tones of innocence.
There's a bird at your window.
Eyes filled to the top with intuition,
feathers fluttering with intent,
not a worry in the world.
There's a bird at your window.
Wondering if it knows,
knows what world we live in today,
or if it even cares.
There's a bird at your window.