It drips down from the sky,
cold
wet
gloomy
The little birds flit about,
searching for the now soggy bird feed
In a pitiful attempt to stay warm
their feathers fluffed out,
trying to keep the wind
cold
biting
harsh
out of their petite bodies
Their tiny clawed feet
scratch miserably in the mud
searching
seeking
begging
that one small worm to dance up from the earth
soft
damp
rich
So the small bird can go home to his tiny family
small
wet
miserable
with some sort of token
to show he cares