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.