The Oriole Sings no more

The wind whispers through the tree's
as if to tell a tale.
A tale about a wise old bird
who lived at the peak of an elm.
Whose eyes were filled with wisdom,
appearance was of yore.
But on the branch at the top of the tree,
the Oriole sings no more.
The withe where it's nest did sit is not forever gone,
and the smile that the sky once had,
never again will I look upon.
Though there is still a dusk,
and likewise still a dawn.
My heart goes out to the Orioles song,
that drifted towards the sun.
We had some wonderful times in past,
but no thing last forever.
Gone forever, gone for now,
like the tune of the Oriole's song.

Nice wink at poetic Romanticism. It's very witty, using the Oriole as a metaphor for a respected loved one who passed away. Very beautiful.

You know I love this one. Word.

Avid birdwatcher in my old age, appreciate the sentiment here but can't help but visualize a lone solitary leaf,the last to cling to the branch falling off and gently wafting down.

:)