The sweltering heat making mirages rise off the cement
Trees offering what's now pitiful shade
And right by the yellow line in the middle of the residential street
A robin is lying dead, its flat corpse gathering flies
Its lover hops from boney leg to boney leg
Turning circles around it, nudging its blood-matted feathers with its beak
Come on, come on
Ruffling its feathers and pecking the ground in disbelief
Mourning, silently, asking why
why?
And a car comes rumbling down the road
Music blaring into the air even though the windows are closed (Sealing out the summer heat)
As the little, heartbroken bird stands next to the edge of the yellow line
A still soul on the sweltering pavement
One foot just a millimetre away from its love
And braces itself
