Sunday Poem

By Alice Henry

This morning a pigeon did alight on my door,

I thought to myself, “What is he here for?”

Looking out at the bare frozen ground,

I saw not a morsel could be found.

The sparrows also were waiting for,

The crumbs to be thrown out my door.

Turning, I found two pieces of bread,

And broke it for the birds to be fed.

Please, little birds, when I hand my sheets white,

Remember today I gave you your first bite.

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