Animal Writes
10 May 2000 Issue

by Guila Manchester

Perhaps somewhere the gates are swinging open

And a tiny pair of wings is flying through.

And your little feathered body

Lying limp within my hands

Is free from all the harm

That man can do.

Don't try to find your supper by walking in the road.

It's simply not the place

For you to be.

You waited just a bit too long for flying;

The driver didn't care

Or didn't see.

Don't try to get the berries on the bushes.

They may be coated well

With poison spray.

Don't try to stick your head through rings of plastic,

For if you're caught

You cannot get away.

Don't go into a yard where there are children,

For some of them

Think sticks and stones are fun.

And some will walk away and leave you bleeding

For they have learned the "sport"

Of use a gun.

Don't try to build your nest in someone's flowers.

They may not want the bother it could bring.

Sometimes they'll take a nest

And simply throw it on the ground

Your baby birds

May never live to sing.

I'd like to see a world that made you welcome.

I'd like to help God's creatures live;

Instead I watch them die.

I hold your broken body lying limp within my hands

And something deep inside me




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