|
| |
Spring Bird
It’s a strange place for me -
In my sixty-fifth spring,
I find I’m up a tree,
And I don’t know a thing.
I’ve always got it wrong.
Little birdy in my tree,
Teach me with your song.
So grateful I would be.
“Tweet”, the birdy smiled.
“I’ll teach you my child.”
Copyright ©
David Crandall
|
|