Needing a break
I saunter toward the washroom
And as I pass my backdoor
My attention is caught
By a Serenade
Of Whistles, Clicks and caws
And as curiosity demands
I go see
What the fuss is all about
And so stepping onto my porch
I search intensely
For the source
Till I see a small bird
Perched high
In the bare limbed maple
And listen as it sings
The sun to bed
As I watch the last
Of the Royal Blue Evening
Pull on the Dark Cloak
Of a moonless
Night
Then shivering
From April's Damp
Turn back inside
Holding
The last note
Brightly in my mind
As I continue
Toward the toilet
And end the
Rather ordinary journey
That brought me here
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem