Robin Mordecai

Upon my balcony I see
The weathered trees
Whisper songs to me
Through their leafs

I feel the air
Blow through my hair
And with it dare
To travel there

There where the song begins
And travels to me upon the winds
And to my ear is where it sends
The song to me that has no end

I raise my hand to grasp the breese
But feel a quiver in my knees
As I stand to great the trees
I shake just like the wind rushing through the leafs