Bird...

Slowly waking to cacophony,
The pre-concert
Tuning of a symphony.

Then silent pause, pre-syncopation,
To build what’s now
Our anticipation.

Sir Cardinal takes the opening bar.
Calling his wife,
Who responds from afar.

Repeating notes like a fine-tuned string,
He corresponds
To a fine violin.

Robin’s come, she’s trilling Ola,
Adding much,
With her viola.

Mourning Doves are more like cellos,
A supporting cast
Of charming fellows.

Blue Jays’ more a musical riddle,
Do they play brass,
Or more bass fiddle?

The shiny section starts en masse,
As Grackles screech
Like a hinge of brass.

Starlings add discordant notes,
As a little flock
Above us floats.

Hermit Thrush acts the hobo,
With perfect pitch,
On his solo oboe.

It’s often nice to add a singer,
And Wood Thrush alto,
Is a real humdinger.

Nothing like a finale drummer,
And "Woody" throbs
Like a frenzied plumber.

(poem by Joseph Kozlowski)