Explore doctorbird

Tales are told of the Bird Doctor, Their beak long; clad in dark color. Down to the ankles their robe does reach, A wide-brimmed hat and a step with no squeak. Quietly moving in the dead of night From one house to another as if by flight. Although uninvited, they will slip inside, Looming over the sick with a kind, watchful eye. From their mask comes a delicate scent of flowers, As they escort the sick on their final hours. And the bed, in their stead, lest they forget, They mark with lavender, lilac, and roses of red. Where do they go? No one's to tell; Their walk isn't over as dawn rises pale. And then, days later, Bird Doctor returns al