Canary

• Peta Lewis, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2006

On top of the chimney,
With the pile of leaves,
I lost my canary,
Because of the breeze.

It flew over the chook pen,
Then into the barn.
My canary is lucky,
It’s still on the farm.

I rushed to its hiding place
Where it was guarded by a cow.
My canary will have to wait,
I can’t get it now.