“There’s a stranger in the neighborhood,”
The thrush sang onto the breeze,
As I walked along the newborn grass
And wandered among the trees.
Just passing through for the evening,
Not meaning to cause a stir,
Sure enough, I caused commotion
As I walked among the firs.
A lady pheasant loudly declined
My invitation to talk—
As I passed quietly near her nest,
She answered with a squawk.
I ambled down the grassy street
To visit with the frogs,
But they fell quiet as I arrived
And sat on lichened logs.
A family of white-tailed recluses
Were alerted to my presence
Unfortunately their welcome was
Just as warm as the pheasant’s.
But just as I turned back to leave
I heard a loud kri-ii-ii-eee!
The frogs had found their manners,
And sang good-bye to me.
Some folks were even sad, I think
As I turned upon my heel;
I found a tick clinging to my leg,
Begging me to host a meal.
Nearing the trail's end, I found
A robin, who saw me out.
She seemed to say, “be quieter
Next time, and we will stay about!”
No comments:
Post a Comment