When I see the Verdin visit
The purple flowers in my yard
Which by the way just appeared
One day and spread like weeds
When I watch her poke about
Chirping and feeding on something
Bugs or pollen or drops of dew
I remember you asking me why
Is there always a bird
In your poems how old
That bird must be today
But love now you've gone
That bird keeps coming back
Showing me how to carry on
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