After a continuous rain there is a collection.
Staying awhile is a pool of captured reflection.
An accumulation of congregated droplets remained.
The clouds and all that towers above are contained.
As small birds fly down, they rest their toes to the edge.
A few are hesitating in the nearby branches and a hedge.
The pool has become tepid in the sunas they take a sip.
Feather friends watch and take notice as they take a dip
They bathe excitedly, with fluttering wings and splashing.
Suddenly taking off in frantic flight; avoiding crashing.
The churned puddle once again regains its composure.
Evaporation is diminishing its size; forewarning closure.
A luminous crescent moon is mirrored in the miniature lake.
The drapes of dusk close, to be drawn open when we wake.
Soon the puddle will be a faint memory, like a passing shadow.
A crust of mud steals away reflections; it is an unfeeling foe.