The sky was green from noon to dawn.
Waking up with a willowy yawn,
the little ones started
They departed like frisky strings,
Bellying and yelling their late-night dreams.
Their home came to life,
while their father fought with strife,
a mother embraced their spaces
Her wide wings gusted upon their fresh faces with ease,
Blowing upon their feathers like a turbulent breeze,
A reminder of routine came in shrieks, which
clipped from their long, shining beaks,
was almost as unpleasant as the next scene
A heron’s shadow swooped in unseen, taking a little one,
The mother’s voice fixed for beautiful songs, screamed undone
The heron lost to the father a long time before,
It simply returned to settle the score
But she wouldn’t allow it
She bolted in a fit, chasing the heron for her child
The forest had never seen a rage so wild
Before the worst could transpire,
The heron would soon come to tire,
allowing the mother to lessen her stride
She snatched her baby, eye wide on the thief,
yet letting herself go on this beef
Her cradled chick shivered from shock
So the mother soothed her as she returned to the flock
The night was nearly coming to be
So they lay down their heads with glee, knowing
That the love from their mother is always growing.
