Separate Song by Tim Gardiner

Four a.m. again, and you’re
bursting into beautiful melody.
Chirping cheerily from the gutter,
awake, and not tired, yet
sometimes I wish you’d shut up.
Misty glass separates joy and sorrow
the cruellest division made possible.
Lying restless on the guilty mattress,
admiring spiders in dark corners,
lengthening shadows on damp walls.
Light creeps stealthily under the curtains
fingers of a forlorn hope, so uncertain.
One morning you will quietly vanish,
never to return to an empty home.
Perhaps one day fledglings will arrive
but I’ll be gone, nothing can survive.