Two Short Poems Concerning Birds, Or What They Are Not Supposed To Concern

A bird flies With five-feathered plumage. It scratches its colorful beak On the white, white sky. It may see other birds. It may not. All we know Is that our pen’s Run out Of ink. = = = = = = = = = = = = = Life, a delicacy Bird, flutter Flutter one Flutter two. Death, a treat Bird, flutter Flutter three Flutter more For soon, Too soon, The music stops. And you will flutter No more.