Upon a dry and stony mountain lip
she builds her nest with misty, rocky view.
A wondrous song she sings: “tschrip, tschrip”
and then a hoarse “zru-zru-zru”!
Cinereous, he feeds on seeds of earth.
His mustache, painted yellow, manly sighs.
She sits upon her triple eggs to birth
and with her partner’s heart, they lullaby.
But as the silver fox now takes her bill,
he flutters for a moment; his wings rent.
His struggle: fierce; he wilts and will lay still.
“Tschrip, tschrip, zru”, thus she laments.
She looks to heaven; flutters her wings, too:
“Tschrip, tschrip, zru-zru-zru!”
That sly fox.
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While the fox does need to eat, my sympathies are for the poor bird.
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Thanks, Janna!
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poor little bird! I can still hear her cry!
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Sad and yet a little sweet. Poor bird!
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Aw, so sweet and so sad. Beautiful work, as always! 🙂
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Thank you, Suzanne!
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