July twenty-third no one heard until days later Like believing a bird had died though you still hear it singing The other day, I walked through the park and under its nest on the ground Its back open wide, as though it was still singing You'll always stay perched on the frame of my doorway Evermore, evermore, evermore ... with me evermore I never saw the bird that once perched and sang outside my home But notes have a way of reaching the hearts of people they never have known GOODBYE RICHIE LEE