I could have held you in my hands, you were so small
Cold and ruffled by the windy weather and the rain
Had made you something to be pitied
A small bird, alone, and silent
Shivering on the streetside, submitted to whatever will come
Little one, your wings all a-tusselled, frail sparrow.
I hope you got some sunshine, dried up those feathers
And joined the rest of the sky in singing your birdsongs.
