Birdie Thinks
Birdie Thinks
Shall I glide
Or flap or flutter
Slide or slither
Never dither?
Some way or other
I can fly
God-given wings
Fly anywhere
At any time
The air is mine
Go where I like.
And of pollution
Not a trace.
I’m innocent
And all content.
Unlike those humans
Spoiling space
With their plane trails
And their fumes
Their greedy race.
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