There is an old man in the yard next door
Who often comes out to feed the birds
And he wears a long nightshirt
Like most men used to do
But my little grandkids don’t know that rule
So when the old man comes out
And they’re talking about
“She is outside feeding the birds,”
And though I’m pretty sure he heard those words
He doesn’t correct them
And neither do I
Because as much as he looks like a very old guy
I cannot be positive
He’s not a she
And so I continue to let it be