They are bird brained and musical
Little birds with bird mouths of song.
Their songs went over our sky’s roof
In our night’s breeze and a morning
Of bird brains struggling with wind.
They have not put wind in pipes yet.
Their wind is yet to form from breeze.
But once a breeze begins it will end
In whoosh through gaps in window,
A light indistinguishable from wind.
An apple goes up and down an Adam
A circle of girl lips a mango’s cuckoo
A deaf bird marking the school time
A breeze shushing an old man pipal-
They were small children, little birds.