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