each evening is a loving song

sung down from somewhere higher

landing on the heldout hand

another kind of choir

the kind you might not find in church

except on one day only

the kind that stays put in its perch

no matter how alonely

and warbles till another comes

to join in like a starling

and if it only hears or hums

the sound is just as darling

where else would two blue birds belong

if not together nesting?

each evening is a loving song

the crying And the jesting

-x2A