little bird

Shrapnel of the sky has hit the pavement.

Hi, little bird.

I think we've met before.

I'd help you find your bearings around

                                                               this piece of land.

Just tell me. Here I am.

I know how strangely it might sound …

Your tired tottering has just reminded me

                                                                  that graveyard

On the outskirts of the forgotten town

Where poets of the Past, my would-be friends,

                                                                   were stranded.

How strangely all this ends.

And you were there, tormented by the green

                                                              of poplar trees.

I wish I hadn't seen

                                  your angry glance –

Sir, mind your own business!