Well, I had a lot of bird encounters today! An eagle on my shirt, a dead bird by my side, and an analysis of the poem Barred Owl!
I will share it with you all:
The warping night air having brought the boom
Of an owl’s voice into her darkened room,
We tell the wakened child that all she heard
Was an odd question from a forest bird,
Asking of us, if rightly listened to,
“Who cooks for you?” and then “Who cooks for you?”

Words, which can make our terrors bravely clear,
Can also thus domesticate a fear,
And send a small child back to sleep at night
Not listening for the sound of stealthy flight
Or dreaming of some small thing in a claw
Borne up to some dark branch and eaten raw.

It’s basically about the power of words.

Tank, pants, shoes-F21
Bag-Charlotte Russe
Bandeau- Macy’s

I thought this dead bird looked so beautiful and peaceful, like it just died from old age!
Poor little guy.

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