In Central Park

In Central Park the crowds were out, New York in all its glory, With bikers, walkers, picnickers – The same old weekend story. The horses clip-clopped on the road, With carriages of tourists While singers sang with microphones And bands without (the purists). But always there is something new – Today, some art creations, Including projects for the kids With paint or drawing stations. What caught my eye, though, were two birds Which shared a single goal – To fly into a tree trunk And to exit through a hole. I guess there was a hidden nest Tucked right inside the tree, Another sighting in the park To bring delight to me.