Bird Left Behind

As for her, the circumstances must be ordinary

And so the return. Door unlocked. The path mowed

Right to the oiled gate; the pasture

Cleared of stone and alder. All untouched

Enough to enter. The man or woman

Off down the valley or working above

Treeline. No other sound but a few strays

Hurrying through the dusk as if the end

Will begin, certain and with nothing

More to say. She does not know she does not know.

Having come back to find her kind

And none being left she took herself up

Into a tree unclear what to do next save only

Sing the song she wanted sung back to her.