P.O.V. (from a bird’s eyes)

  Introduction:
 
  This was another school assignment where I had to take a poem and turn it into a story.  This one was by Emily Dickinson, one of my favorite poets.  Here's the link http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/bird-came-down-walk-328

and here's
The Story:

  The bird honestly thinks that this neighborhood is the best.  Only for a few reasons, but sometimes those reasons can mean life or death.  Though the bird doesn’t think about life or death, or even survival.  It thinks about food.  That’s mostly it.  You could argue that he thinks about survival because he thinks about food, but that’s not it.  The bird is just really greedy.

                It’s because of his greediness that the bird likes this neighborhood.  He likes it because it rains often.  When I said the bird only thinks about food, that doesn’t mean he isn’t smart.  He actually is rather intelligent, but he uses his intelligence to think about food.  You see, this bird has it all figured out.   Because it rains often worms come out making them easier to find.  He had actually found an angleworm that very morning and enjoyed it very much.  It also means more to drink.  The grass in one particular house’s yard is long, very long.  So the rain collects on it and makes it easy to drink.

                Though there are problems, the bird has yet to find a spot without them.  The biggest one is beetles, the bird hates them.  They look disgusting, they taste disgusting, and they feel disgusting.  So disgusting that the bird doesn’t want to be near them.  Well, more of them come out for the water, just like the worms.  So when the bird sees them he hops to the nearest wall and looks rapidly around for more before continuing the hunt for worms.

                There was something that made up for it.  Someone in particular.  She would sometimes watch the bird hunt for food, and the bird would pretend that he didn’t see her or else she would go away.  He did notice her, even when she was trying not to be noticed.  Somehow she had gotten it into her head that if he saw her, he would fly away.  Most of the time she sat on her porch and scribbled in her notebook, but sometimes the bird liked to take advantage of her.  When it had been a day without as many worms as usual, or if he just wanted more food (most of the time it was the second one) he would hop up to her and cock his head.  She would stare at him, then scribble something in her book.  After he stared at her for a while she would dig for something in her pocket.  After she found something she would give to him.  Whether it be a cracker, or biscuit, or in this case a crumb.  Usually this ritual would signify the end of this bird’s day and he would fly back to his nest.  And just to prove my point on how smart this bird really is, the bird has his nest built in this neighborhood.  I like to think that is proof plenty.