Where should I leave to today,
The flower beds or the orange groves?
Or perhaps to the lone tree of the concrete garden,
Where I may sit on the concrete bench
And watch the birds flutter in the concrete birdbath?
I may go there, for in the flower beds I still see birds flutter,
And in the orange groves I still see trees.
So perhaps I shall stroll out the door,
And sit across the way on my concrete bench.