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.