Rush,
hurry,
scoot,
scurry,
dash,
across
the trail
look,
it's quail!
Lately there have been whole flocks of quail dashing across the road. The fun thing is they come in large, medium and small sizes, so you can guess how old each of them is. And, as the summer moves on the birds get bigger and the number gets fewer as the hawks and other birds have quail for dinner. Can you write a poem about a bird you've observed today?
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