That Poor Grey Bird

Poem (That Poor Grey Bird)

I see a little bird stands on the edge.

I look at the bird's steps like a slim dancer,

Picks seeds, warms, follows it's friends,

Flies from branches to another,

Produces beautiful sounds, sings mysterious songs.

Spread his wings to move from the nest to the top of the tree,

I'm still observing his movements,

He is playing with his friends gladly.

What a marvelous feather, nice black eyes, accurate legs as thin stick.

Flies away to that tree branch in the neighborhood beautiful garden,

Besides neighbor's window.

The wind shakes tree leaves, stands on it,

His friends call bird to come, it's time to go home.

They have been forgotten brutally judge on the little gray bird.

His friends fly away, it seems his destiny.

leave him plays with flowers and branches.

Little gray bird flies, jump quietly.

But forgets to return home and follows his friends.

I notice a cat is sitting above that red roof calmly,

Observing gray bird's movements carefully.

He wants something wicked from gray bird,

His eyes open widely, while gray bird busy,

Suddenly the cat jumps quickly and catch the gray bird.

His feather flies high in the sky, his eyes seem to cry.

I blame myself 'Why I couldn't help that little gray bird?

Cat in moments snaps our lovely gray bird.