"But who will find him if he's lost? Who will find the little boy?

Goodness will find the little boy. It always has. It will again."

[McCarthy 281]

Black Bird pattered alongside Papa

Black Bird carried the light

Black Bird knew not what was near

Unaware of Papa's plight

'The little boy,' Black Bird cried

'Who will find the boy?'

Franticly searching for answers and refuge

While Papa held his coy

When dawn broke on Papa's last

Crippled Black Bird, meek with grief

At last Papa fed his peeping

With answers of hopeful cast

'Goodness will find him' Papa breathed

'As it has before'

Black Bird wept, because he knew

That Papa was no more

Papa died with genial faith

For he was plenty wise

The reflections that followed and remained behind

Were oaths before his eyes

And baby Black Bird, weak and daunt,

Was inconsolable with meager hope

He finally found his wings and

Unshackled, learned to cope.