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.