Jerry Pike - A Late Bird

A late bird, your song flutters, heart to heart.
I see notes hanging from telephone wires,
then falling softly into the deep grass.
And I lay there, staring out of this world,
into another’s sky, where perhaps you might
be laying, and I ask, who are you?
Over and over, and we drift,
making people out of wishes,
filling skies with cherry blossom
and fancy silken hopes, misplacing spilt dreams,
then throwing a coat down to hide them,
not quite sure who will step on
into the future, and who will sink
out of sight, below that rising heaven.

Jerry Pike

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-late-bird/