A little Sunday poem

A Blackbird fell

Have you ever wondered
what happens to the birds?
sparrows entertain us town folk
rewarding us for gardens treats
the seeds and nuts we deem delicious
dangling from pretend trees

a thrush will mine a snail
from its private caravan
but no bird seems to eat a slug
or prehistoric chuggy pig

daring robins flits beside us
hoping we’ll expose a worm or two
as we dig weeds and turn our soil
they love to splash en masse
in a plant pot saucer spa

but what happens at the end of the day?
perhaps our trees are secret cemeteries
with little niches full of tiny corpses in decay
have you ever wondered what happens to the birds
a blackbird fell at my feet today.

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