The party was already underway
by the time me and the dog showed up.
As host, the river was serving up fresh spray
and the sun's slim fingers were tickling the tin
scraped aspen. As we made our rounds
a robin kicked his pile of marbles
down morning's silver half-pipe
and the sparrows, what a gang,
spun the tin fins, messed with the bells.
A common grackle dropped
coins from her beak, pulled levers
and everyone bounced on their spring stools.
”I'll have some of what they're having"
I told the wind, and was served up ice
in a wooden flute. We left the room
for some dog time but birds live fast.
When we returned the path
was yesterday where only a goose
wheezed through its copper reed.
Happy April, happy spring, the world has come alive.
What a party!