The sky is your playground,
Yet you seek a friendlier place,
For a time.
Before you leave,
You paint the sky,
With feathers and song.
I will remember you,
All season long.
Yet
Here comes the winter kin,
To take your place,
To make the cold,
A friendlier place,
For me and my kind,
Who drench themselves,
In what they can find,
When scarce it becomes.
