Bird Bath

While wandering some wooded paths We witnessed warblers taking baths. Some rocky croppings, they’d detected, Had some dips where rain collected. Several types of birds appeared And waited ‘til the “bathtubs” cleared. Taking turns, they each immersed While those in waiting chirp-conversed. The bathing birds, a’frenzied, flapped As water droplets rose and slapped. I couldn’t tell if all that preening Was for show or simply cleaning. Concrete jungle thoughts aside, In New York City, we’re supplied With lots of Nature’s hidden treasures; Spotting them provides sweet pleasures.