Boring Moorings

 Driving down the street one early Sunday morn, from a distance I could see two figures plotting along. As the distance was closing I could see that they were some kind of a fowl but I could not figure out what breed they could be. The birds trudged like two drunken sailors with two webbed feet which were not made to walk the streets. They had long necks that undulated to and fro and their white feathers looked in distress, not combed at all.

  

Finally it hit me what kind of birds they could be. They were Swans that were out of place, but the question is why these graceful feathered friends would escape a place that would exhibit their grace.

  

As I began to think of the vicinity we were at, the Swans were not far from home, I’m sure the "Moorings" is the place they called home. 

The Moorings is a place that comforts the older generation that can afford to live their golden years in happiness without disgrace. 

  

So why would they flee from a heaven like this, when all the swans have to do is pirouette in the water and create hearts with their mate. 

   
I guess these Swans decided to flee the Moorings and find their own fate, for there must be more to life than to swim around in one place and entertain the elderly who are waiting to enter the pearly gates.

A Crows Friend

   

Early in the morning when I had nothing to do but step outside, welcome an other day and take my daily breath of fresh air, I noticed a piercing stare by a villain like eye. 

Sitting on a branch almost atop of an aging tree was a dark, pointed beaked and motionless bird peering down on me. 

  

I had seen this sinister looking bird before but today he peered into my eyes and I heard him say, “Watch me fly!” 

   He started unfolding his shadowy finger like jet black wings and pointed them down on me.

  

   

He then began to cry out, “Don’t be afraid, wait for me, Watch me fly!”

His body seemed to bungee jump from the branch before his wings began to flap. The Crow was diving down on me and I didn’t know what  would be.   

  

Then I heard the swooping bird say, “Wait don’t hide!” 

   “Would you run if I were not as dark as a moonless night, but instead I were blue or red and sang out your favorite tweet?”

   I listened in disbelief to what I thought I just heard, but I stayed motionless just to see what this bird had in-store for me.

  This stealth like bird continued to dive but to my surprise glided gently on my shaky shoulder and began to whisper in my ear, “ So glad you waited for me, for we all need a special friend and so do I.”

  How did this Crow that I will call “Gene” know that this day I needed a special friend?