Recently fledged birds look more or
less like their parents, except they follow around their mirror image with
their mouth open, screeching for tidbits. They do not know the facts of life:
do not go into the kitchen; that cat is not your friend; the square of sky
behind the house is really glass, and will break your neck, judo-like, with the
force of your own vitality. Swing wide past the corner.
Baby woodpeckers
in the parlor and porches:
learning not to die.
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