Round and round,
she flew over,
keeping an eye,
she kept shouting.
Nearer he went,
louder she cried,
helpless she was,
still, tried everything.
And creek, that was the sound,
when he stepped over,
breaking the eggs,
killing her children.
And she went silent,
maybe she was mourning,
cursing the fate,
she must have cried.
He was sorry too,
guilt ridden he was,
it was a mistake,
but a grave one.
He walked to the tree,
where she sat wailing,
apologized to her,
atleast to feel easy.
She flew down,
to the broken eggs,
collecting what remained,
and flew away.
Maybe he was forgiven,
maybe he was not,
but they died,
before they saw the world.