This Bird

The day was long

This day was hot

I went to sit 

In my favorite 

Writing spot. 
Pen in hand, I had 

A thought; when

Suddenly a bird 

Flew into my 

Favorite writing spot.
He looked at me

His beak so close

He had a worm 

For me to see.
He dropped the worm 

On my writing pen

Then flew away.
What a strange thing

For a bird to do; 

To bring a worm

And leave it 

For me.
Fathomless thought 

This bird

And me.

Author: purpleborough

Thankful that I was given the honor of rearing two great children.

2 thoughts on “This Bird”

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