Some places where I've been.
People have talked about what to write about.
I realize that a lot of people here are students.
And we think we have to look around.
Well, how about something near?
I just thought this is the hand to start.
A bird inside a box.
A box will sing.
You put it in a window for the sun.
At first, sound hides.
Then it calls to everyone.
Every day, let loose again.
Those faithful notes, they're gone.
They're gone.
So many deathless vows and songs and friends.
Young, you tremble.
Old, you do again in fear.
Between, a rock inside.
You hold the wild bird still like this in here and here.