The Innocent Birds

they go away one by one leaving their nests and nestlings winged birds of the mystic hills they perform somersaults in the air hoping the dry wind will not give them a scratch and flow away smoothly they are innocent minds of the nature they are not proud of their tiny wings colored and serrated and well woven with plumes fetched from their parents they go down in a hurry to catch the rolling worms and go up speedily to sit on the clouds and devour. they are kind and sweet hearted for they don't know there is a storm rising behind them that will sweep them away from the sky and dump them in the eddies of an ocean