For Your Birds

It has been a while, you green-fletched fiend

Since I last awoke to your candied-natural warbling

And as you slipped in through the window slit

A look of intent in your eye

The fifth day running, you little shit

At five ‘o clock in the morning

I wondered what would raise your ire on each day?

Would you attack your reflection in the mirror;

Or is it the TV screen that’s earned your wrath

No! perhaps the shiny pot on the stove was in your way

Or the fridge would be receiving your terror

Oh no. It was against my laptop, your war-path.

At least I was there most mornings, to intercept your nonsense

I had seen the bits of Prestik you consumed heartily in my absence.

And that’s not to mention the turds you left, when unsupervised

I would never imagine a bird so small, could shit contents four times its body size.

That’s not to mention the way

You pecked at my window to be let inside.

It was the Morse-code to start my day;

Nature reminding me it’s still beside.

I miss you little buddy, it’s hard being this alone.

Even when I speak to family, on the video-telephone.

When you woke me in the mornings, it made my day alright.

To remind me that nature, wanted to comfort human plight.

A lot of us are singing

That the world cares not for human song.

I am probably one of them

But I suspect often I am wrong.

Sometimes nature lends her heart,

And often we cannot see;

The birds that break into our apartments

And sing songs to the flat screen TV.

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