The Miracle of Birds
Wonderful as the stars
The thought of flight
To be a creature that would be
A grace for the sky
But a drift for the air
Brought into shape by plumes
And as curious as the cat
Frameworks been the most rigid
In the animal world
Bones are cages of its strength
And a natural miniature airplane
With their propellers
They move towards their determinations
With a deadly halt in space
It cushions its landing with legs
Through the trackless skies
We can, but bow.
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