First the scarlet cardinal,
The father, we peddle ;
Then the little poof
Clambering aloof :
Nestling,
Who turns out
Cardinal, the slightest
Of crests atop his
Peeping crown,
No red feathers yet,
Just drabby down .
Then comes the squawk
As my daughter scoops
Him from the nature walk .

Housed in a previous cage
Piping hungry with rage,
More feathers tube out,
As he flits about :
Fledgling
With tail sprout,
And chirps cracking songbird,
Soon to be colored,
Face blacked out .
Bird is the watchword
For turnabout
From net to nest :
Will there be visits
Or just question–mark reds ?