Poor bird, lying dead on my lawn
Have you been there since dawn?
Or was it in the still of night
That your short life was put to flight?
You used to watch expectantly when I turned the soil.
Juicy worms from the earth lay bare, resulted from my toil.
When I moved away a bit, you swooped in lightening fast
The wriggling worm within your beak, his life had now just passed.
What caused your death? Was it a cat?
Or was it some poison that you ate?
When I bury you, the worms will get you back
For you have now become their lovely tasty snack.