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.
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