A blackbird’s sitting in the grass,
Not two feet from my feet,
But, though it eyes me as I pass,
It doesn’t leave its seat.

As if my presence lets it know
I’d never do it harm.
It wouldn’t take a whole lot, though,
To cause it great alarm.

And I’m just like that wary bird
When in the worldly throng:
I weigh each deed and mind each word
In case one might be wrong.

And then, as quickly as I can,
I fly away from “gentle” man.

Photo by Olah Renáta Adrienn on Unsplash

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