The mockingbirds fly into my yard by and by

every afternoon just about three.

Then come starlings and grackles with squabbles and cackles

they come for a bath, not for tea.

I sit very still by the back window sill

watching them splash and wiggle.

They jump into a pan, use their wings as a fan

spraying water till I start to giggle.

There’s one silly old bird who is really absurd

his manner just really offends.

He hops in and out, tossing droplets about

getting water all over his friends.

I love watching their fun, but when bathing is done

I keep thinking a few little things.

Birds don’t use any soap, so I really do hope

they wash good under their wings.