The blackbird chicks have come of age
And start to leave the nest,
And, though the world is hard to gauge,
It’s only for the best.

I heard them cheeping through the spring,
Whenever food was brought,
But now it’s time they all took wing,
As every fledgling ought.

It’s fair to say that, in my day,
I fled more than I flew,
But, if I hadn’t run away,
I couldn’t start anew.

And, if I’d stayed, I couldn’t see
The spectacle in front of me.

Photo by Luke Brugger on Unsplash

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