Baby Bird

Baby bird

By Larissa Cox



The trees hush,

The river slows,

All the forest,

Watches, waits,

And holds its breath, anticipating.



For on the hardy branch,

That in tallest tree resides,

Sits a nest,

And from that nest,

A tiny bird would fly.



With bravery beyond compare,

The bird begins to fly,

She flaps and flaps,

And flaps her wings,

And glides on through the night.



Now the forest,

Heaves a sigh,

For as new life takes flight,

And old life dies,

The forest will always watch and wait.