A tree cast out it's precious cargo.
Breeze blew through the springtime trees.
If I could have anchored you tight upon the trees.
Your nest it would be still be there in situation'.
Youthful squeaks, awaiting beaks.
I heard their distress calls.
Unable to act, it's a fact.
If I were to touch you, they will by wanton abandonment destroy.
(C) LIVVI