In Central Park

In Central Park the crowds were out,
New York in all its glory,
With bikers, walkers, picnickers –
The same old weekend story.

The horses clip-clopped on the road,
With carriages of tourists
While singers sang with microphones
And bands without (the purists).

But always there is something new –
Today, some art creations,
Including projects for the kids
With paint or drawing stations.

What caught my eye, though, were two birds
Which shared a single goal –
To fly into a tree trunk
And to exit through a hole.

I guess there was a hidden nest
Tucked right inside the tree,
Another sighting in the park
To bring delight to me.