Morning at the birdhouse…

The sky is doing her best
despite the grey. The birdhouse
stands proud like a grand
grandfather clock. Dangling
feeders swing to and fro
pendulums passing time.
Fun-fair feast for feathered
diners, always in motion,
going with the flow,
hanging on. Hypnotic
to observe. Thrill seekers
taking turns before
the sweet sanctuary
of the trees
has more appeal
and then they’re gone.

~The H Word~

#NaPoWriMo2021 #Day20

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