I like bronze birds
that stand on pedestals of varying heights
Birds of feather... large and small
Some are poised ready to take flight
Why, oh why am I so fond of these…
Their chirps and caws never fail to intrigue
I watch them in admiration spring and fall
Of this fascination I never fatigue
They cluster together from lands far and near
They gather and sit around my abode
Never disagreeing with one another
Pleasantly sharing the climate of my zip-code
Each day as I walk by I wonder if
they are content… I asked a wide-eyed owl
what he thought and he replied,
Among us you'll never find a frowning fowl...
2/8/2012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem