Daily I witness a home of one,
All day, the bird nests at the top of helm,
But I feel bad for one,
As the leaves are falling in a run,
The autumn is going through like a shun,
The winter is coming but taking the home of one,
With in time, I will be unable to see the home of one!
As all colors are going to be white without sun,
I just wish, she manages to nest at the top of helm,
She finds another city and any other elm.