I named him August.

I had a bird for 17 days once.

He had ice blue feathers and a few little purple ones on his head.

He had these little eyes with teenee tiny little eye lashes.

I would hold him on my fingers and he would cock his head to the side and chirp.

I had a bird once and he made me quite happy.

I named him: Little August Bird. (quite fitting wouldnt you say?)

His feathers reminded me of the clear august skys.

He made me happy like the August sky did

He was my little life i was responsible for.

And i loved August very much.

Little August bird lived for only 17 days in my care.

He was supposed to live for 12 years...

He died one day out of the blue...

I wasnt expecting it in any way shape or form...

But he left me.

I Buried him in the backyard next to a pile of wood and a rose bush.

I put rocks over his little birdy grave.

I said my words and shed my tears.

and it was over... he was gone.

I went to visit my little birds grave the other day, and a little flower was growing next to him...

A little "where the red fern grows" moment.

It was beautiful. And it made me feel peace.

It got my thoughts going...

August represented more than just a bird to me.

He was named after what made me the happiest girl in the world.

He represented that time when i grew wings and few too.

He was my symbol of love, that i was watching grow every day.

No matter how short or how suddenly it ended i loved August.

August was me. August was you.

I named that little bird August.

And even though we didnt make it to August together.

I am realizing that flowers grows in the oddest of places.

And that its okay cause when August had to go...

I know it was our time too...

Flowers grow in the oddests of spots. There is one on my heart.

And i know that i must not let my wings fail. The wings i grew in August must not go to waste.

I will fly because that is what August would have wanted.

Its what i want.

...just becuase one thing dies does not mean i should stop flying.