Mockingbirds

I spied them carefully as if I was meant to court them as they hung on the Edison above the roof, slightly swaying with the breeze. So unique a singing voice with so many songs, yet louder than the sparrow or swallow, chicks following close at hand. The older ones clothed in blue-gray with white feathered bellies, the younger ones mostly gray, they sit elegantly on the wire ballerinas balanced with perfectly straight wings, sirens teasing, hunters looking for exotic caterpillars or just basking in the sun with a song, each one unique with a mind of its own.