Songs
I have many friends I speak to
Some dead, some half alive
They walk with me
And hear me as a bird with many
Sad or joyous songs after
Dangerous nights
One tags along I do not know
Although his eyes seem to have
Seen all my days and lays down
With me at night where snow
Presses a pillow against every window
I curl up with him and go to sleep
His breathing the last song I hear