56

DAD POEM

The flowers are still
And the breeze comes.
Some heather shakes
And we hear the motors
Of a whole squadron of bees.
They fly low to the ground
And scatter the fallen petals.
Squirrels look at the river
And the harbor. One squirrel
Goes running into the bushes
Then comes back around
To look at us.
Airplanes pass over. Doggie!
Time for lunch.

2

A little bird, a sparrow?
Landed in a crook
Of a cherry tree branch
And disappeared inside
Then popped out the other side
And cheeped at us.