Death of Mother Bird
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A pretty bird sings sweetly upon a fence outside my window,
Until a cat comes creeping and pulls a wing down;
Sad little bird lay on the ground within sharp claws, trembling.
Struggling to get free with no real hope of that happening,
Her feeble attempts no match for a feral cat;
Oh sadness, I know it is natural for that wild green eyed cat.
Finished, the cat moves on- it was not hunger just a game,
Close by a nest of baby birds is loudly tweeting;
The pretty bird looks up to the blue sky with one last chirp.
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I am sure she is dead yet I find myself rushing outside to her,
A basket quickly grabbed, I pick her frail body up;
And bring her inside- I notice that although in shock, NOT DEAD.
And right away I go back outside to find that nest of babies,
And now they are all quite alive in my sunroom;
Oh, the chirping is loud, deafening, but it brings me happiness.
What started out a poem of death became a poem of happiness -
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May 6, 2016
Poetry/Verse/Death of Mother Bird
Copyright Protected, ID 16-787-108-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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