Heard the chirping through the raindrops.
Birdies flitting about as the storm gears up.
The powering birdies won’t stop.
They will ride it out in a pink teacup.
The bare trees swing
No twig to told onto
A harbinger of what the day will
Maybe it’ll be a cheese fondue
Probably a freezing flash storm to keep us unbalanced.
Come back little bird, come back.
For you are resilient and counterbalanced