You'll find me in the chicken yard,
At the Farm in Lincoln Park Zoo.
Over the chickens I do guard,
Shading from too much sun, I do.
But any season I'm around,
To make the chickens feel secure,
That all is well upon this ground,
My very presence does assure.
So gaze at me - I am a beaut,
Right in front of the chicken coop.
This is my home and where I root,
Fertilized by the chicken poop.
When there, say 'Hi Mike, ' cuz that's me,
A feel useful river birch tree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem