FOR THE BIRDS
August—A month
That was made for the birds—
At four in the morning
They start those bird words—
Chirping and warbling
And singing with glee.
I just want to sleep
—Silly old me.
They flit through the air
Like a wisp in the wind.
They alight on the lights
As the traffic begins.
While peering through flowers
For breakfast and treats
The bird’s day beginning
Brings fun to the streets.
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