She wonders how birds sound
on the other side of the forest;
if they open their beaks and sing
independence to the air,
the sweet notes bouncing leaf to leaf;
if their mothers let them fly
in any direction they choose.
She wonders what becomes of the birds,
their noisy morning calls that screech for worms.
What happens once they’re taught
to tap their beaks on wet grass;
once they learn to bend branches into homes?
What happens when they’ve learned
to flap their wings? How many of them make it?