She rises bright as sunrise floods
Her Grandma's garden tangle
To meet her friends out near the walk
Where fuschia blossoms dangle.
She peeks around the corner with
A shy anticipation,
And San Francisco's pigeons hear
Her gentle invitation.
'Come here and eat, sweet things, ' she coos,
And they accept, unscorning,
The crumbs dropped from her little hands-
A banquet in the morning.