Flew around Mrs Mumpower’s backyard.
Perch on the clothesline. It began speaking
its amens. As to what subject the bird
was agreeing with, no one seemed to know.
The dog assumed the bird was showing
its appreciation for the blue sky.
Or it could’ve been something the wind said.
Or was it the grapes on the vine.
The Amen bird fancied them as a treat.
What grapes gave birds was the truth.
One grape and the Amen bird
flew around Bristol, singing like Hank Williams.
It serenaded Windsor Avenue.
The houses swooned, flattered by
the sweet melody that swung
around the city, knocking on doors.
Offering affirmations, amens that gave
everyone the impression they were right
about everything they thought and did.
The confidence gained gave Mrs Mumpower
a reason to take up piano lessons.
Mr Hoffdsteder next-door was inspired
to paint his garage and repair his leaky roof.
Poochy-Doodle, Mrs Talbert’s terrier,
chased a squirrel all around Sullivan County.
There wasn’t anyone in Bristol
who didn’t feel like they were right.
The choices they made were perfect.
Even their mistakes were correct.
The Amen bird had done its job.