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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