Carol A. Hand
Sweet bird, fly high
Taste the wind with your wings
Fly free in the blue sky
while the one left behind sings
of the times we’ve shared
and the joys we’ve known
of the places we’ve traveled
and the places you’ve flown
Almost always caged, now you’re free
Your empty shell at rest beneath the crab-apple tree
as your brave and blustery spirit tonight
soars aloft in your forever freedom flight
Farewell dear and faithful little friend
Note: This is a poem for my little parakeet Bud, the light blue bird on the right. He has been with me for eleven years. Today, he died doing what he most loved to do, flying fast and high. This time, his landing wasn’t gentle. I held him next to my heart and sang the beginning of this song as he gently closed his eyes. I worry that his partner, Queenie, will be lonely, but for the moment he is singing.
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