The Night Song

There's a bird that lives in my house; I don't know her name or what she looks like or even where she is, exactly - I only ever hear her and she only comes out at night, curiously. 

I thought I could spot her one night, as she was singing, but I was fooled - the closer I got, the more distant she became.

I can't figure out where she's at, my little friend - it's as if she lives in between these walls - maybe she does. Is she trapped in there, in that little space holding us altogether? Should I tell someone? The police, the fire department, anyone at all?

She must work all day and come home each evening only to find herself alone again, singing her sad song all night long. 

A wintry bird holed up in my house with her family nowhere to be heard and spring on the way - why does she sing so, and always at night? What brought her here to my little home?

Why doesn't anybody else care about this poor little bird, chirping endlessly throughout the night?

Can no one else hear her desperate cries?

But maybe one of these nights she'll sing a much louder song - when we're on fire and burning down to bits and pieces.