Human Sensibility
The cool morning was quiet and dreamy,
on a green bench, I enjoyed my breakfast
made of roasted ham, cheese, eggs, and coffee;
butterflies whirled overhead, I had one thought at last.
Hungry squirrels and pigeons came by the dozen
picking up the breadcrumbs that constantly fell,
I wanted to show them my generosity
and I gave those starving creatures so frail
my unfinished sandwich as they surrounded me.
They resembled tiny babies with adorable eyes,
with stumbling feed moving with uneasiness,
folks passing by showed no concern or pity;
I was moved and offered them a bit of my sympathy.
The food I gave them wasn't much but enough
to make them believe in human sensibility,
my only reward was to feel as happy
as they were; they kept me company
and I started to giggle and laugh.
Later that morning, I sat on the rough trunk of a tree
which fell among white and red oaks leading to a winding path;
the branches of those oaks seemed to reach out to me,
their breeze was a whisper telling the secrets of a stately forest.
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