Poems (Mansfield)/When I was a Bird
WHEN I WAS A BIRD
I climbed up the karaka treeInto a nest all made of leavesBut soft as feathers.I made up a song that went on singing all by itselfAnd hadn't any words, but got sad at the end.There were daisies in the grass under the tree.I said just to try them:"I'll bite off your heads and give them to my little children to eat."But they didn't believe I was a bird;They stayed quite open.The sky was like a blue nest with white feathersAnd the sun was the mother bird keeping it warm.That's what my song said: though it hadn't any words.Little Brother came up the patch, wheeling his barrow.I made my dress into wings and kept very quiet.Then when he was quite near I said: "Sweet, sweet!"For a moment he looked quite startled;Then he said: "Pooh, you're not a bird; I can see your legs."But the daisies didn't really matter,And Little Brother didn't really matter;I felt just like a bird.