Unearthed roots provide an abode for bugs and grubs.
New space for the saplings to grow in is made.
This is the forest’s shooting star.
Beak like a gum drop, mouth ever open;
always needing and beseeching.
Baby bird, baby bird,
your worm searching mother is tired.
I admire the bird
who sings a two note song
as if it were a symphony.