To The Birds (day 2518)

I spoke in whispers I thought only you’d know how to hear
A call upon the window ledge that browns a little more each year
Three mountains on the horizon but only one brings you near
How many times can I watch, each time I see what I’ve never seen
Each time, each year the vision is as dear to me again
And sends drawing down my face one happily yet unspoken tear.

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