Still Life

Starling, chaffinch, goldfinch, wren
When shall we four meet again?
On a summer sun-dozed hill
Unter den Linden, on window sill,
Near the brook by sodden moss
Above the head of candy floss
Behind the Gothic country church
Amongst the graves and silver birch
Flocked upon dusty verges
Where crystals, silk and sunshine surges
To fill the air with angel song
An eternal feathered throng
Or must we lie in ordered mound
Still, warm and soft but without sound?
Some believe we'll be reborn
To one day have our portraits drawn.