SYMPHONY AT DAWN

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.

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