I cling to the last breath of summer
as I watch new life
secret itself from
my sorrow.
Sorrow for the empty nest
at the end of the watch...
will I see you in the spring
my sparrow child...
Sorrow for a winter's sleep uncertain
as dark shadow and crisp airs
harvest memory of a summer's warmth,
soft fragrance replaced
by dry nothingness.
I fear winter,
it's breath uncertain
as iced talons grip
my hope for silent slumber
and my fields of sparrow song.
