Under rock, beneath moss
in a cardboard box
my green bird hides,
his feathers still lie
just as I lay them
down into ground.
His antics I miss,
now the sound of the past
fades away, comes to dust.
My kin and my kind,
they all fell behind,
they fell from the rim.
And all that remains
of a childhood long gone
is the green bird I lost
as he chatters away
under rock, beneath moss
in the silence of his
little cardboard box.