Shell Game

Early morning, Central Park

And captured on his phone,

My husband saw a turtle,

On the pathway, all alone.

Its shell had lovely markings

But what made the scene unique

Was a bunch of sparrows, following

And chirping, beak to beak.

It seemed the birds were curious

About this moving shell,

An unfamiliar presence

Which just didn’t ring a bell.

The turtle crawled, the sparrows chirped,

A little morning spark

To start another summer day

In New York’s Central Park.