In The Park Poem by June Walker

I was surprised to see finches and canaries
in the birdhouse at the park this morning.
The pair of quail were huddled in the corner;
one rather plucked like a chicken ready for the pot.
The cockatiels were popping in and out of holes
in wooden nest boxes high on the shelf.
The green and yellow budgerigars were chirping
and kissing their mates and looking sideways at me.
Around the corner, on the outside, the flock of doves
were cooing and pecking large grains of wheat
strewn on the ground.
And I felt my own ruffled feathers soothed,
softened and cooled.