Sandhill Baby

Baby showed up this morning
all alone on the lawn,
forlorn,
looking around, a 360 degree view,
skittish.
All his native senses sharp,
he looked toward the foggy lake,
a landscape in gray on gray,
bereft.
His parents have kicked him from the nest.
I put some seed out on the grass.
He ate his fill, then
stood for five minutes more,
his beautiful long neck,
long legs,
long beak,
pivoting slowly
as if to fix the scene.
Abruptly he leaped and off he flew
with his magnificent, ashen, feathery wings,
over the wall and across the beach.
I watched him soaring across the lake,
as the day became slightly brighter,
although still gray,
Baby,
on his way!