Sonnet #292

The birds have no reason to sing, I think -

The sun rises, song rises, when foraging

Is more important than music, storaging

The extra for a leaner night, and I think

The song reveals the birds to hawks, snakes

To all the hunters of the morning, who hear

Who listen close and move, there’s no fear

Of death when singing, the shimmy and shake

Of their dance among the branches is not

Meant for love, just yet, and even if it was

They sing in all seasons, these birds, not 

Just when spring arrives - there is no because

To songbirds, we are wrong to make their thoughts

With measures meant for music meant for us

When all the songs of morning are sung for no one