Birds Fly

Oh, good friend, how I watch you spin with the wind.
Your plumage soars wit the weather to no end.
You turn around, come back in town for home bound.

Once combing the county side in stride, no wonder
you're the country's pride
Very eager, I know you're nothing like the beaver.
As you taste, out comes the waste upon city cars,
buildings & streets.

With wings span far out, you lift and shift to get up, up
and away.
And that's where you'll stay for most of the day until
you spot prey with those eagle eyes to die..