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
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