A Poem for a Baby Bird
There is a bird nest over the light by the front door. When returning from walking my dog, Lilly, I noticed a dead bird chick was on the doorstep under the light, and I buried it in the backyard. My mom said that she would move the nest after the other birds’ chicks left.       A Poem For Baby Birds       Growth is a process,   A process of change.   And prepares us to fly.       Whether we fly or not,   The process keeps going.