The Nostalgic Nightingale

 
Perched on a withering branch
The nightingale sings a melancholic song
With a voice that remembers the past
Like echoes of spring from long, long ago
As the wind stirs amidst the trees
The nightingale sings a despondent tune
A winged memory of open blue skies
Now painted with a little more gloom…
But at night the nightingale sits in silence
Warm in the nest looking up at the stars
While the wind whispers amidst the trees
And leaves fall gently on the ground
The little bird reminisces of times
Of days lived and laughed and gone
Of love found and lost and longed
Filled with nostalgia
That bears the weight of time