My "Chris" Birds
by Robyn Kingery
In Memory of my son, Chris Kingery

It's the twigs below the birdhouse
Let me know your birthday's near
This back yard once sat empty
Not a bird in sight all year

We placed the houses in our yard
To give the birds a home
But never did we see one
Til the day that you went home

We looked outside on that day
We laid you in the ground
On that dark day in September
The starlings swarmed around

We had never seen so many
Certainly not in our back yard
But there they were aplenty
On that day that was so hard

They came again in the Spring
Round your birthday, the end of March
The starlings flew around again
Bringing twigs, a home to start

So March and in September
Are special months indeed
The starlings come to see us
They recognize our need

Because they came when you left
They were never here before
I've named them after you my son
Your legacy, I'm sure

So, it's these twigs below the birdhouse
That lets me know that you are near
My "Chris birds" come a-callin'
Reminding me of you so dear