A Poem for a Baby Bird
There is a bird nest over the light by the front door. When returning from walking my dog, Lilly, I noticed a dead bird chick was on the doorstep under the light, and I buried it in the backyard. My mom said that she would move the nest after the other birds’ chicks left. A Poem For Baby Birds Growth is a process, A process of change. And prepares us to fly. Whether we fly or not, The process keeps going.