Spring Bird
It’s a strange place for me -
In my sixty-fifth spring -
I find I’m up a tree,
And I don’t know a thing.
I’ve always got it wrong.
Little birdy in my tree,
Teach me with your song -
So grateful I would be.
“Tweet”, the birdy smiled.
“I’ll teach you, my child.”
Copyright © David Crandall | Year Posted 2024
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