The rat race

[pomes]

I am a mother now, it's not a race
I've slowed down to my baby's pace
We see a bird - we stop and stare
As long as he is standing there
I wonder why his beak's so sharp?
And could we hear his beating heart?
His feathers seem all of a piece
More like a fur or woolly fleece
Why cock his head?
Why look away?
What has this bird eaten, today?
Where is his nest, does he have eggs,
Would I hop, if I had such legs?
Do birds have babies too, and stop
And stare at people as they shop?

Comments

[hitchhiker.livejournal.com]

Very nice indeed!