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
Elephant Journal’s Holiday Gift Guide 636 shares A letter to the Anger that refuses to Leave Me. 600 shares Waylon’s favorite Ethical Gifts. 13 shares Learn Social Media, Writing, Editing & Journalism Ethics with elephantjournal.com. 1 share The Real Reason so many Long-term Relationships Fail Sexually. 994 shares Trevor Noah just won my Respect. 2,567 shares Year of the Fire Rooster 2017: What to Expect. 994 shares Why a Year of No Dating was the Best Thing I ever did for Myself. 7,620 shares These Tweets (and Retweets) actually Happened. 1,391 share How to Say Goodbye to that almost-great Love. 1,665 share