the parting birds

I need to edit this later. *

As the snow fell,
the birds came.
Hundreds and hundreds
Searching for food;
searching for grain.

Driving down
a frozen farm road
Ice on my windows
ice on the snow.

They saw me coming
they flew side by side.
A wall to my left
A wall to my right.

Should I go fast?
or, should I go slow?
Some were so high
others floating low

Suddenly the crowd flew in front
I slammed the brakes;
put it in park.

Fluttering past
with little regard
Hundreds and hundreds
Upwards and over
Split in between.
Was it one mass split into two?
Was it one mass split into three?

And then the most curious
occasion of all
Was the one little bird
left way on the right.
She was flapping
and flopping her way alongside
but she had lost her crowd
was blind in sight.

There was her family
way to the left
I was in the middle
and on my car she lept.

A curious sight
of a lost bird on my mirror.
No bigger than my fist
Eyes black and clear
Brown coat of soft feathers.

She looked at me
and I at her.
A moment passed,
I must seem so absurd.
But in that moment
I swear she talked.
Opened her beak
and out came a squawk.

She said she was
but a wee traveler.
Lost her way;
would I help them find her?

Sure, I said,
they are over yonder.
And of this bird
I had grown fonder.