"A Bird Thing"
by
Ashlon

 I sat in my house watching birds fly south for the winter. They fly over ships sails, woods trails, and over the green grass of prairies seeking to end thier task
of finding someplace warm.
Why do they go?
I'll never know I like the snow!
Maybe it's just a bird thing.

 

  

The End


Story by: Ashlon, age 10, USA

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