THE ODD COUPLE AND MOZART
Two birds, one large one small, are in our house
in large white cages side by side.
“Large” is a sky blue budgie male with black and white
striped wings: who sings and sings and sings — old “Whiskers.”
“Small” is a spry and hoppy lady finch of prominent orange beak
and a little monotone voice she sometimes uses.
At night time, their perches being close,
they press their feathered sides against those white cage bars,
close as they are able.
Finchy wants to housekeep.
She lays eggs and eggs and eggs, and then some.
(She can count them — up to three.)
Such is their “keeping company.”
Then melodious Whiskers (old Whiskers)
set about to learn her finchy song
and sings it to her now and then as best he can.
But best of all, one day at last,
their keepers gave them Mozart: flute and strings.
At once old Whiskers took new life from that CD.
And so it goes: the happy two with Mozart all the day.
(But sometimes Bach can have his say.)