Lonesome

And sometimes, when the mornings are quite and I can hear the lonesome bird chirp on the branches of the pear tree by the window. I look outside and slide the glass isolating me from the rest of the universe. The cold February air sends goosebumps in my arms and tingles my upturned nose.

Lonesome as the little bird chirping out my window,
I start humming a tune of my own.