That thrush

She's here again on my back lawn,
That solitary thrush when the day is born,
Hopping and listening seeking a meal,
Finding a worm that was trying to conceal.

With speckled plumage and a sharp eye,
She watches out and then will fly,
Her daily ritual to satisfy a need,
Quick and eager she is indeed!
About this poem;-
Each morning this bird arrived seeks a worm, finds
it and then flies away. She looks beautiful and

is fascinating to watch daily. ,hence the short poem.