Fails sometimes gooddo.
Fails sometimes baddo.
I fails to fly today.
I tries my hardest. My wings don’t tries their hardest.
This is whats I do. Momanita opens the rolly nest door. (She calls it a cage.) My beak and foots climbs me out to the rolly nest top. (Sometimes Mikeyman puts millet on the rolly nest top. I loves millet.)
On top of the rolly nest I watches Momanita.
Momanita coos to me. Momanita’s coos are NOT cockatiel coos. They are hootman coos. Hootman coos are soft talk. Cockatiel coos are better. Momanita tries her best.
I waits till Momanita busy with hootman jobs.
When Momanita looks away I goes to where rolly nest top ends. I feels the space all around me. No rolly nest bars. My body remembered moving through sky seasons ago.
I sees the inside cliff up high. (Momanita calls it a cabinet.) I looks down low at the inside ground. (Momanita calls it a floor.) I wants to be high on the cliff.
My eyes looks at the cliff. My wings spreads. My body flings itself off rolly nest. My wings pumps up and down.
The cliff moves far away. My wings glides hops. They don’t works right.
The ground moves close near. I bumps the ground.
The sads get me. I wants to be up. Chirpies comes out of my beak.
Momanita hears the chirpies. She rubs my belly with her branch finger. My foots climbs on. Momanita hootman coos at me. She puts me high on her shoulder cliff.
My sads let me go.
“Oh, Squeaky Pie, I’m happy you’re not hurt,” Momanita says. “I know you want to fly like other birds. Sometimes you don’t get what you want.”
I sits high on Momanita’s shoulder cliff.
My neck tucks down. Momanita scratches my best neck place. She hootman coos.
I fails at flying.
Today’s fails gooddo.