little birdie on a rock
a singing in the sun
accompanied this poetry
and made of it a song
we sat together wistfully
composed each line or two
and set it out into the sky
to wing a way to you.

I think he was a sparrow
or something of that kind
he chirped out loud a chorus
and I would set my mind
to illustrate libretto
and bring words into play
before his song was ended
and he had to fly away.

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