AI Bird in the Morning

Like an old lady's hair,
the sky is gray,
even the birds are hiding.
When the insomniac writhes
in the bed with winter gloom,
a sudden bird sings in the room,
lifting the mood.
It sings again.
No bird, but a broken alarm,
chrirp, chirp. such a preety voice,
as if to say, Happy Thanksgiving!

© Byung A. Fallgren