Riddle #3
I am one not American
and my blood is not red.
Winged, I do not fly.
Well-footed, I cannot walk.
Well-fed, you never see me sit at table.
Although my companions love to speak
I’m not spoken to.
Should I die, my mother would not miss me,
no kin folk cry their sorrow,
no friends come sulking at my funeral.
Named, I do not know my name.
Taller than this riddle is long,
who am I?
