I’d rustle feathers
And flutter wings
And hop about, doing birdie things.
I’d pause at dogs
And squint at them with my birdie eye
I’d search for tiny seeds to eat
I’d scratch the dirt
With birdie feet.
Collecting bits of twigs and fluff
For nests and other birdie stuff.
I’d take off, with a dramatic swoop
And squirt out sticky birdie poop.
I’d beat my wings against the air
And soar so high,
Without a care.
Until I felt the need to rest
Then I’d return
To my birdie nest.
I’d wake up early,
With the dawn
And sing another birdie song.
Love elephant and want to go steady?
Editor: Renée Picard
Illustrations: Marc Durrant
hot on elephant
The story behind the Elephant-headed God. 342 shares Visual Yoga Blog: Refresh your Eyes the Yoga Way. 160 shares Boomers vs. Millennials: Will We stay the Course or Change It? 364 shares Instead of Sabotaging another Relationship, here’s how to Run into your Fear. 954 shares Join: Elephant’s Winter 2017 Academy. 2 shares The Benching Mind-F*ck: Worse than Ghosting. 1,366 share 5 Ways to Kiss & Make Up for your Mercury Retrograde Mishaps. 497 shares “I’d look her right in that fat, ugly face of hers.” 1,241 share 15 Cool Things Yoga has Taught Me. (Hint: None of them are Handstand.) 2,469 shares How we can Rewrite our Stories after Loving a Narcissist. 1,075 share