Little Empty Bellies Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

Bare branch, cold and gray,
Tiny birds in a row today.
Little feet feel the winter bite,
Still, they chirp in the morning light.

Eastward sun, a golden gleam,
Warming feathers, a waking dream.
Wings unfold, they start to fly,
Across the fields, beneath the sky.

Houses quiet, humans sleep,
No birdseed there, no crumbs to keep.
Little bellies start to moan,
Hunger aches, they're all alone.


T.M.Solvang