Dead Little Bird

Dead Little Bird A dead little bird, alone on the ground No open window, no entrance was found The light in his eye slowly burns out No riding the wind- no flying about The rude awakening of glass that was there The wall, so transparent-no need to beware So inviting the room seemed to be inside So fatal the secret the room had to hide The bird now is helpless to flee from its plight Enemies circle and wait for the night Once free and alone on the wing of its flight The sad little bird is a sad little sight Beware little one as you flutter about Of things transparent… that leave only doubt Much better the wing on the wind to be found Than a dead little bird…alone on the ground David Kettler