Swinging branches full of leaves
home to birds
who are as thick as thieves.
They sing in unison their morning song
while an old man
in his garden hums along.
Checking his flower beds for any damage
then to his vegetable patch
to admire his cabbage.
He stands upright to stretch his back
then looks over the garden
to see what is next to attack.
Weeds are sprouting through patio slabs,
with one hand on his hip
he gives his forehead a dab.
Whispers to himself that he is getting too old
then drops to his knees
with his sleeves already rolled.