Published by Open Love Letters



Bird Song, 

The first time I heard you I was very little. Sunshine had streamed through Mum + Dad's bedroom window, it was warm and sunshiney yellow, and you were there. 

A bit later on, it was a lonely summer holiday of an afternoon, I looked up at the sway of green back garden trees, and heard tweeting.

In my teenage bedroom, sometimes I would see the sun lower, I wanted to be sad and alone, but there was Bird Song. Walks in the park, barbecues, mornings, hand-holding, laughing, kissing, evenings, crying, Bird Song.

I don't hear you as much these days, over the city noise symphony, but it turns out you were always there.

Recently its been quieter, in between the sound of trucks, trains, sirens, there's a conversation of understated, familiar little tweets.

Sometimes things change, sometimes they change a lot, but hopefully you can always hear Bird Song. X"