She sang for the birds,
dancing like flaxen wind,
sunshine-bright and gently
waning.

she twirled like golden leaves
and laughed like stilled ripples of water--
the hairpin curve of her mouth
tilted up in the parody of a smile.

And in the depths of night,
you fell softly in love
with the sound of her silence,
echoing like the wilting feathers
of a songbird
who can sing no more.