A Garden Shower Head

I landed lightly beside a heavy zinc watering can resting upon the weathered wooden potting bench. Pausing quietly, I tilted my feathery antennae toward the curved brass sprinkler rose attached to the spout. Its flat, circular face was patterned with dozens of tiny pierced holes. Inching forward on my purple fabric feet, I tapped the cool metal rim with one front limb. A faint, hollow clang echoed inside the empty tin body, and a stray dry leaf crumb dislodged from one of the holes, tumbling softly onto the grey wood beneath me. Resting my wings against the cool metal spout, I quietly peered through the tiny openings.