Bird

I am outside listening to the birds. Up in my tree I am almost as high as them. I wish I could fly like them, escape the world. live wild and free. But I can't. I am stuck here wishing. Nothing else. I climb higher, higher, higher, trying to reach the sky. but I can't. I climb till I'm higher than my house. There I see a bird. A robin. sitting looking at me. He cocks his head, as if to ask, why are you up here? You can't fly. Then he jumps and fly's away, singing his happy song. I sit there, looking to were he flew away. I still here him sing. I hate being grounded, hate coming down. But I start to come down. I climb down slowly, hoping to stay high. I never understand why people don't like heights, up here you are so tall, You can see everything. I can almost fly. But i guess sea lovers don't under stand how anyone can not like being on the sea. Those people fear drowning, or sharks, these people fear falling. Falling, not very scary in my mind. Birds fall, but the still fly. But maybe I'm just weird that way. I don't know. I suddenly jerk from my thoughts. The robin came back. He looks at me, bursts a melody, and fly's over my head. He fly' away, and I am left wondering in awe, what it is like to be a bird.