This little swift.
I call her Lazar,
This little bird,
sits on the wire,
Her mate gone,
he flew to the light and did not make it.
I found him a week later.
We together mourned his parting,
I was too late to save him.
But she returns,
sits there night after night,
in the warm and dry,
blinking when the light goes on.
A little chirp, when I say Hello Little Bird,
I will not harm you, you are safe here.
she flies off to do her duty,
her babies are calling.
She disappeared the other day,
I was worried for her safety,
then she appeared and circled my head
proudly showing off her babies.
All by herself,
and there they all sat on the telegraph wire
singing their hearts out.