Fickle Bird

What is the shelf life of a memory    
without an aficionado of dreams    
and does it gather emery    
to place in a jar    
   
where are nature's pillows    
or a wordsmith    
to revive the Willows    
before the taxidermists    
   
who answers the door    
when no one is home    
it opened a moment before    
with a ghost in the window    
   
where are all the children    
and the swings of yesterday    
have spirits taken to pinions    
leaving broken nests    
   
why is there so much hypocrisy    
held up by a crutch    
with no sense of morality    
and life is such a spoiled fickle bird