A Migratory Widow Bird From Afghanistan

Her long black tail feathers and the somber color of its plumage Gave me an impression of widowhood, I try to listen her plea and it's sorrowful The bird speak the language of human But nobody understands. 'My innocent husband died in the poppy fields while searching food A bomb dropped from the sky and I escaped and flew here, Oh! It's a winter I forgot and I left my winter clothing at my husband's roost, Don't know whether I could be friendly with the birds here? ' *Birds can be unite wherever they fly.