One pleasant summer day, <br />Swinging gently in the window, <br />My canary began to sing, <br />Softly at first, <br />Testing his voice against zephyr and sun. <br /> <br />And then he fairly burst <br />As trill followed warble <br />And chirp preceded roll. <br />His yellow-feathered throat <br />Swelled and shook with joyous tones. <br /> <br />Then suddenly he stopped. <br />He cocked his head left, then right. <br />From tall trees and power lines <br />Came echoing songs <br />Rising and falling around him. <br /> <br />The mockingbirds continued singing <br />Far into the night, <br />Spreading canary music <br />To every block in the city. <br /> <br />They did not even care that their tiny mentor <br />Had long since been taken back inside, <br />And covered with a cloth.<br /><br />Yen Cress<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/influence-7/
