The Birdbath



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The heat’s oppressive; sweat drips down my face
Although I sit in shade beneath some trees.
No sign of movement, not a tiny breeze
To cool the air in this green, silent place.

The birds have hushed their calling; no sweet song
Is heard. They sit, beaks gaping. Soon the night
Will bring relief to all whose summer plight
Needs cooling rain to fall. It won’t be long

Until the pale moon’s rise above the hill
Brings respite, darkness. Gone the searing sun
For numbered hours. Once morning has begun
Perhaps some western winds will bring a chill.

I fill the bird bath; now some birds have found
This haven, and their happy songs resound.


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