‘The flower, the bird and me’ (a squirrel listens intently)
Poetry, whisper sweet
what I can see
delicately enfold
in front of me
The squirrel now contently
no longer scurrying free
Rests most easily
and listens intently
But to the slightest sound
growth as beauty from the ground
And the bird
whispered sweet
each tiny word
'Poetry'
is what I heard
and the resonance
concurred