About this poem:

I enjoy what I like to call 'bent-wing' birds.

That is, those which land with wings open, often bent, right before touching down, flapping slowly.

Smaller birds probably do this same thing, but the difference is that they do is so quickly, that it is more something that you *see* than something you *watch*.

If you think about it, this specific thing, I believe it lends a lot towards considering the difference in attitude, or personality, of larger birds versus smaller.

It does for me, anyhow.