Helle van Aardeberg

I don’t know how to say it
Bird­song is a many splen­dored thing
I guess I doubt the words, my ideas
You’re strik­ing the sun­light with your hair
I for­get all the dis­con­cern­ment
The bus is late, you shift your per­cep­tion
Hit­ting the winged flight above, instead

But you’ve now tied back your hair
A mask shat­ters on the dirty street curb
In the sky look, to catch the eye of a bird
I notice every time        –you gaze also
Your eyes dance with what you see
As inti­mate as water is with a river bed
Together we share

Some­thing