Water beads down
his footing to a stalk
An iron bird ~
cast in the heat,
now stands with water at his feet.
His beak sealed tight against a note,
his summer burden ~
To sit and watch a mother’s flock
within his bath so luring.
In green metallic
he looks on as her new one’s frolic
within his blissful pool of clay.
An envy to a foul so heavy,
now ready ~
for a little rain.