The songbird

It creaked! It squeaked! It screeched!

The rusting joint of a door? The waving sheet of a roof? 

Day one! Day two! Day three! Ah ha! The shrill of a bird!

The sound! The voice! The cry! A song! A friend! A family to me! 

But, suddenly, it stopped!, it stilled!, it's gone! 

Little jungle was home to her, but little jungle is little jungle no more. 

One man, two men, three men, slashed tall and tiny spiky green grass! 

Freshness is dryness: garden is desert!

A month passed, and another! Desert, once again, is garden!  

And I am hearing it again! 

The sound! The voice! The cry! A song! A friend! A family to me! 

Creaking! Squeaking! Screeching! 

The songbird is nesting midst of spiky green grass!