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Friday, July 16, 2010


The nascence of the morning with the sounds of
an aviary choir would dictate that I stand before
my sliding glass patio door to observe my feathered friend
whose wings of café brown with a chest of rusty orange hue
would splash about as his chest would expand with pride
and he would spread to preen then ruffle
while perched on the edge of the lower tier of the fountain
resting from his refreshing morning dip
he’d routinely take in this fountain
I had logistically placed it for my enjoyment
to hear the sound of water falling and the view
of the sparkle from the falling streams reflecting the
teasing rays of the morning Sun and at night
the glistening smile of the Moon
Yet, my friend, Robbie, would in the mornings
seem to boast that this fountain was built for him
Others would swoop near and perch on the patio fence
but would only bob their heads back and forth sideways watching
as he, unabashed, would flaunt his proud bathing techniques
Profoundly sadden, I found him this morning
laying at the foot of ‘his’ fountain without breath and song
No longer will the sparkle of the falling stream of water
be interrupted by the playful splash of his proud expanding chest
but I am glad to have shared his mornings and his fountain