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As ranch boys, my brother and I often played in a hay loft

In the barn. He, older and bolder than me, taunted me endlessly

While leaping from the loft to giant stacks of hay miles below.


In a maple tree near our home, Dad hung a tiny house for blue

Birds far above the ground. In spring two new arrivals.  Taking

Turns, Dad and Mom tirelessly tucked tender greens and wiggling


Worms into yawning mouths. As they grew, their house became

Wall to wall wings. We heard bird-fussing in the night. As summer

Rolled round, the hatchlings were nudged to the lip of their house


And urged to step down. The first took a pair of days of shoving

And haggling before he plummeted to an alien world and Just

Before landing unfurled his new wings! To one side Mom and Dad

Winked at each other. Whoever heard of a bird with fear of flying?

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