A Warm Birdbath in the Sun

A fresh blue birdbath sitting in the sun
That's what I'd ask for every day
before I sang.
Or maybe barley bread-- just a crumb.

I'd perch on a swinging supple branch
and I'd chirp my heart away
For a balmy day
When all the hawks have flown
And cats are lazy.
Oh I'd sing for you!

But even if the clouds hold back their rain
And gray cats prowl while hawks patrol the sky
And morning is just one sunbeam through the fog
Oh I will sing, I still will sing.
Demanding nothing