Over Rosebank

An unknown bird flew in from afar,
it cried calling out its plight,
its grieving broken hearted flight.
Circling the city centre dance hall bar
a crisp bitter breeze blew in the fear.
Over Rosebank, Richmond that night
a girl died dancing, a soul took flight;
in the settled still, death shed a tear.

Later, a dull thud breaking a fall;
walking up I beheld a dead bird.
Dead before it fell, making no call,
having fallen from the roof unheard.
When passing the city centre dance hall
only dead feathers in the wind stirred.