Shell Game

Early morning, Central Park And captured on his phone, My husband saw a turtle, On the pathway, all alone. Its shell had lovely markings But what made the scene unique Was a bunch of sparrows, following And chirping, beak to beak. It seemed the birds were curious About this moving shell, An unfamiliar presence Which just didn’t ring a bell. The turtle crawled, the sparrows chirped, A little morning spark To start another summer day In New York’s Central Park.