Park Walking

They're walking dogs, there in The Park,
Across the street, from morn till dark.

Green, green grass is blanketing the ground,
Singing birds, you hear all around.

Doves are hooting, down a distant lane,
And geese go waddlin' to whence they came.

Killdeer carry on, as if facing what's dread,
Male Cardinals' show-off feathers, of bright, bright red.