A bird is known,
Throughout the streets and skies of towns,
That constitute my busy mind, and how,

Her presence lives within and never leaves; unknown,
To all inhabitants that neighbour East and West and South,
But reasoning for this is present in my thoughts I must avow,

Of how abrosial winds blew in to carry wings aloft,
Past breaking head- and lamp-lights, now decanting,
Light upon the streets; rays of warmth, her warmth, enchanting,

Thoughts that line the concrete walkways, littered with those soft,
Down remnants, balmy up against my cheek, through chilly gusts they end up granting,
Tiny grins, if tine meant booming, byes a flutter in the heart of hearts, replanting,

Seeds of hope where seeds of doubt once lay, this cycle will recycle,
But my dove will always till the hurting crops away until the nevermore,
Return of sadness, for she'll be within my heart and mind forevermore.