On the road to the rocky point
where the ferry passes between
two countries, my hurried walk is
stalled by the sound of birds
too anxious to let me go on my way.
I pull my mind from thoughts of
chores and duties and scan the sky.
Perched on the telephone wire,
a family of American goldfinches
out for a morning showing.
Eleven round fluffy tennis balls
balancing on needle legs, tiny claws
grasping the wire, lift their heads
and open their tiny beaks
to let music slip forth and
travel with me on my walk—
a pace, now much slower.
I leave my must-do list there on
the shoulder of the dirt road
and whistle on my way to the beach.