Bluebird on the Roof
by Larry Schug
An early bluebird alights
on the roof peak outside my window,
dances a little hop-step dance,
cocks his head side to side
in rhythm with the happy blues,
the fills and trills
I whistle through my harmonica,
maybe feeling he’s got a song coming
from one of these earth walkers
whom he’s graced withsong
for all his cerulean-feathered life.
I feel blessed when he looks me in the eye,
does one more little hop-step
seems to give me a nod of his head
before flying off to a cottonwood tree,
the day’s business at hand,
as I return the harp to my pocket,
step out the door to my own day’s work
with new eyes, a renewed heart.