I sit here looking out my window,
And there atop a tree,
Happens to be a mockingbird nest,
As I peer over my shoulder,
Into that little perch I notice a miniscule bird,
He looks at me and chirps,
And I see his mother come swooping in,
She looks at me with pure dismay,
And then turns away,
She cuddles him and gives him some food,
One last glance in my direction,
And then she's off,
But she hasn't really gone,
No, she's waiting around to protect what she loves,
What is so interesting is that she is an animal and it's her instincts,
But we are the 'superior' race but with all that goes on,
When did that instinct leave us?
Kathryn Miller
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-mockingbird-s-love/
