Poetry Bus,1/16/11

My morning meditation became about tiny, shiny birds.
Songbirds and all things relating to them- colorful.
Does this apply to TFE's prompt ?

The apse was empty
and so I went out
into the greening garden
and picked up a rake.
Emeralds lead me onward,
" Grriiishhh, rrrisshhh,"
pulling brown tufts away
"Fluff, enough."
Suddenly a choral voice
wavered out, gaining strength,
heart rending solo
from above.
"Who-?" I  whispered
scanning the ring of apple trees,
and far left on the tippy top branch
a little red blob with its beak to the sky
was serenading all around
a washed blue sky.
And so he and I
kept company,
sometimes in sync and sometimes
I'd stop, lean on the handle
just breathing.
All the way down the long yard,
he sang, I raked,
until I reached the windmill.