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.
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