City Bird Bath
If I were a sparrow
And lived in the city,
Where soot and pollutants
Could make feathers gritty…
I’d fly to the Garden
Near 103rd,
The perfect location
To bathe for a bird.
For there, in a fountain,
A girl holds a bowl
And the trickling water
Needs naught to cajole.
So the sparrows all flutter
To romp and to splash
For a minute or two
Then they’re gone in a flash…
While the humans sit watching
With grins on each face
As the birds take a bath
In this lovely sweet place.
Copyright © Ilene Bauer | Year Posted 2019
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