Natural Humor Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Writing poetry, sitting on a little wall at Brophy, my mind keeps getting interrupted by sounds of falling leaves.
Dried and crackling, falling to the ground faster and louder than usual.
Stopping and taking a look up, I watch for a while and then finally see the cause of such commotion.
Sitting upon the roof, some pigeons are gathered there.
By sounds I hear of sweeping, it appears they are doing some spring cleaning.
Apparently using two feet - one of them is pushing dead leaves off the roof, sending them floating quickly to earth.
I laugh out loud - it amuses me so much to see this happening - I have never in my life seen anything like this before.
Wishing a friend would hurry and come get me, so I may share this gentle joy with him.