A story

"Look into the emptiness and hear him far off
Whistling lightly out of his mocking lips,
I edge into bed-- I wish i could sleep!
But sleep has turned into a frightened bird,
Difficult to catch, to hold, yet easy to kill;
Whistling he flies off, his voice full of bitter disdain,
The rustling of a wing, away in the straining wind."

This reminds me of a story my friend told me today
about a bird that flew into a window and landed in his lap
dying the bird fell to the ground and slowly stopped moving
did it merely want someone to acknowledge it's death?
I'm not sure, it's open to interpretation.