"What do you watch so much from the windows?"

I see the snow on your curly hair,

how it clinges and melts like lover in your embrace,

"Stories."  smiles with secrets makes you intrigued,

curious eye brows up in the hairline,

your eyes are now peering over the trees while mine is roaming the skies.

Little birdie in the sky,

I wonder if it worries,

worries over its wingspan,

of its dull colors and sharp beaks.

After all you don't worry if you fly right?