Ave Atque Vale

I made friends with a couple of sparrows, sang them my last rites while they chewed on my marrow

(While I was trying to leave I got bit by the feeling of having left something behind)

Would I be laid down in rose, rue or laurel, ruminating, chewing on bright blankets of soil?

(While I'm trying to sleep, I get behind on my speech, stuck turning phrases into rhymes)

The daylight falls short, my bygones disturb me no more

By the time the last call's given a chance

I'm already echoing down the hall with circumstance, dancing

(Hidden in the harvest of intelligent design was an easy target, and now I know you're mine)

I got caught throwing the latest shapes with a couple of robins who had some time to waste