Today’s my seventh birthday A happy day in June. There’s popcorn on the apple tree And I sit in the sunshine With my little bird. He’s green with yellow feathers and likes to peck the "machine wash only" tag while he massages my neck with his tiny feet. When I set him down He always hops to the same darn corner Of the red picnic table and just waits for mom. She holds her arm out- straight as a board and he babysteps it- way up to her neck to tickle her ears. I feed and water him. We love each other. He’s a gift from my mom.
To Septsong,dsnyder,& Elizabeth Santos: thank you for your kind words. This poem was written for my mother who unfortunately never got to read it. (She passed away about 6 years ago) Hopefully she would have enjoyed it. best regards, bboog