Flat green leaves are saucers for the birds to sip from
See how cautious the blackbird is.
All of a sudden he flies up singing.
Rustling in the leaves of the apple trees with his body
No he’s looking at the cats water
What kind of rule book does he have ?
Dont tell me he wants the cats food
Red leaves are drying in the sun.
Time to go home now
How my heart sings 