spring for the birds

a poem about birds in the springtime

spring for the birds


i’ve been awakened the last several
mornings to a
cacaphonous convention of
birds outside my bedroom
window
i’ve recognized sparrows, jays, and
robins
caught up in a very
serious discussion of something

perhaps the fate of their distant
middle east relatives in this time
of world upheaval
or maybe it’s something as
mundane as today’s split of the
local worm spoils

in the distance a
neighborhood dog
barks incessant commentary or maybe
tries to join the
conversation but doesn’t understand
the futility of inter-species
communication

then, every
now and then,
a lone owl, as if trying to recognize
the dog,
asks the burning question
who-who-who whoooo?
for owls in their infinite
wisdom
never ask why