Goldfinches by Mary Oliver
Some goldfinches were having a melodious argument at the edge of a puddle. The birds wanted to bathe, or perhaps just to dip their heads and look at themselves, and they were having trouble with who should be first, and so on. So they discussed it while I stood in the distance, listening. Perhaps in Tibet, in the old holy places, they also have such fragile bells. Or are these birds really just that, bells come to us--come to this road in America--let us bow our heads and remember now how we used to do it, say a prayer. Meanwhile the birds bathe and splash and have a good time. Then they fly off, their dark wings opening from their bright, yellow bodies; their tiny feet, all washed, clasping the air.

count me in--he's smart, funny and scottish--who needs jay and conan? c
ReplyDeleteI haven't seen much Craig Ferguson, but my 83 year old mother likes him so much that I've taken to referring to him, to her, as "your Scottish boyfriend...."
ReplyDeleteLove him. How fun to find him on your blog!
ReplyDeleteAnd he uses hand puppets - my kind of guy!
ReplyDeleteHave only seen him a couple times. Liked him. He would be so pleased to know that you have begun "Team Craig." :)
ReplyDeleteWell....duh! we are all shallow for a fellow from Great Britain...thus Davy Jones, Paul, John, George, Ringo, Herman's Hermits,....I could go on and on....but won't...smiles.
ReplyDeleteYes, I'm hanging out in the shallow end of the pool, too.
ReplyDeleteI will join that team :-).
ReplyDeleteI'd rather watch Craig than David any night.
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