When I come across them, usually they’re perched
In a row on the stone wall of the narrow path.
One by one all ten jump down and, still in line,
Strut before me: slowly at first, then faster and faster;
Till, with a clockwork "chuk!" and whirr, they take off
And fly in unison to the terrace below.
I smile, while thanking God for sharing such jokes.
7 January 1996