Fall is nearly done.
And the birds are mostly gone.
But I keep the birdbath clean,
refilling it with fresh water
in my bucolic backyard.
Daily, a squirrel comes
to quench its thirst.
A brief bushy-tailed ballet
during the hop-on and hop-off
the birdbath makes me happy.
It keeps me from brooding over
the “dark and deep” woods of winter.