The Last Flight

Through the trees I fly,

Branch to branch,

Black feathers,

 Blended into the night.

Small red tail brand

Stands out as I glide

Down to the trees, 

Nuzzled in the nest.

Crushing cones in my claws,

My beak shifts for seeds.

They crunch in my mouth.

The taste seeps down my throat.

Voices float through the trees.

I stand still,

The moonlight on my back,

Sitting, thinking, waiting.

The loud thud stops my thoughts.

Scared and alone,

I take off into the night,

Never to see this bush again.