This Poem was Submitted By: Philip D. Pederson On Date: 2001-09-20 00:15:54 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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When birds do it, is it still......

"Yes dear, I know he flies like you," Ma pigeon did advance; "but pluck you from the sky he will...if he gets half a chance!" She knew she sounded stern and all, as they prepared to leave... but if they haven't learned by now - she'll have their deaths to grieve. She'd daily coached the teen-aged pair who readied now to fly; describing birds both lean and fast with beady killer-eyes: The falcons, eagles, hawks and such, like fresh squab now and then; and from the heights they stalk young birds - and strike at will and when. "Goodbye you two and best of luck!" Her face was ashy-white. She watched them pumping west - then south, 'til they were out of sight. She'd warned them of the ruffians!  What more can mothers do? If they escape those toughs a-wing...there's still A.C.L.U!

Copyright © September 2001 Philip D. Pederson

Additional Notes:
Could this be considered "racial profiling" in the world of birds?


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