“Cowbirds,” people scoff.
Parasites. Intruders.
Eggs laid in others’ nests.
Overlarge mouths
Awkward bodies
Crowding out
Bright bluebirds
Sweet singing warblers.
But what
of the cowbird babes,
Born in the wrong nest,
Raised by unfamiliar wings?
When do they know
This is not
Where they belong?
How do they find
Each other?
When do they learn
Their own songs?
Daily Dog 
Oh, Tessa; this makes me cry for the displaced of this world.
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I love that you heard what I felt, Brennie.
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Tessa, this is lovely!! So insightful and thoughtful. A truth we never notice. Thank you š
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