At Lafayette Square


Wren stands
on the round
stainless steel table top,

feet tread a burnished surface
which shimmers as water,
even in shade.

She looks up at me
expecting food
but I am behind glass.

After a moment, she hops
to the chair back
and flies.

—-
The tables there are round now. LOL.
Loosely following the dVerse poem prompt.