Hatchling
Time on her watch like a hawk
Dives to her final hour tick-tock
Upon the night owl's yawn
At the crack of dawn
2 eggs nestled neatly
The nest incubated nightly
By the warmth of a sibling
The plumage awakening
At the bottom of a bottle
Labelled 750ml of trouble
5% concentrated rodeo cradle
Rocking her bird like noodle
Intoxicated on something dry maybe lite
At least still able to fly on a tilt
The fowl returned to an empty shell
Feathers floating were eagles dwell
The other were serpents crawl
Her heart is where angels fell
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