A flock of black grackles
All lined up along the wires...
What could they be talking about?
Did Doug have it right -
That all bird song is weather reports,
Such as wind speed and dark clouds approaching?
Or, is this some grand opera,
With a cast of thousands,
Reciting Bird-hoven's famous 9th Chirpony?
Perhaps they are conspiring as to which foul cloud
They will herd into our fair city,
With the gentle beats of a thousand outstretched wings.