The Ghost Of A Song (Poetry)

The moment dawn broke
he came to our sill
and so I awoke
to hear his sweet trill
of thanks for each crumb

Our supper’s remains
left out overnight
and through frosted panes
I watched with delight
till the feast was done

December brought snow
temperatures fell
to an all-time low
we fed the birds well
no sign of the sun

One grey silent dawn
I searched for his red
then found on the lawn
poor robin stone dead
his earthly race run

His grave’s by our hedge
yet when half-awake
I hear on the ledge
like his heart will break
his ghost singing on