Pip-Pip, the Pee­wee

Isis Town and Country - - Opinion - By NANCE BUR­NETT

Glossy pied coat of jet and snow,

Match­stick legs and dainty toes,

Beady eyes on watch for fores,

Con­fi­dent walks, now quick, now slow, Pip-pip, the Pee­wee. How can he live in city grim,

Build­ings tall and dark and dank;

Trams and buses snort and clank.

Only this bird looks pert and trim – Pip-pip, the Pee­wee. Stalk­ing around, avoid­ing crowds,

Find­ing the worms and grubs and crumbs,

Mind­ing not the chill that numbs

(One of the win­ter’s frosty shrouds), Pip-pip, the Pee­wee. Day upon day I watch this bird,

Smile – to me he means the spring.

He will mate and nest and sing,

Lighten a heart with vi­sions stirred,

Pip-pip, the Pee­wee.

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