Silver Weeping Birch Poem by Ibn Ali

Why can't I hear the jaybird's song
From where she was perched before
Out by the faded house
With the silver weeping birch
And the corrigated door
That place needs joy
The type that dandelions brings to kids
In the years between naivety and fear
Before the trials of innocence begin
And the scent of death smells so sweet when they draw near
They test the river's depth with both feet
Strange, that a longer life makes us more fearful of its end
We lose adventure with age
And water flowers in the rain
We bled claret and blue
Excitement subdued with rules
Old men bleed the same magnolia they paint