Birds alive in paradise…
The parrots feast on figs atop my tree,
and I gaze the vast blue vista, deep.
They squawk and play and flutter frenzied,
their feeding a delight, an enchantment seen.
Sparrows two score swoop on mass,
within those hanging vines, so dense,
pecking away at blushing fruit,
sweet nectar bunches like chandeliers.
Blackbirds upon the morning grasses,
caressed by dew and secrets blessed,
worms and bugs caught unawares, in the new sunlight,
bobbing heads so busy, relentless.
Pigeons and doves cooing, their morning cries respectful,
calling to one another across the humble thresholds,
their blue-grey heads like Japanese bowing,
alternate, ceaseless, like oil heads pumping.
Upon the fence in rows of multi-grays,
basking in the morning fine, a lilting breeze,
the cacophony congregates,
until a lonely cry above, a hawk on high,
and all my friends are gone.
Tony DeLorger © 2017