So many birds sing out of tune

So many birds sing out of tune

The melody lost

In a cacophony of calls

I don’t know their names

We have never been introduced

Whilst often a little nervous

In company

I am not a twitcher

Ornithology is a study

In patience

Hiding in plain sight

Waiting for nature to call

Every beat of a feathered wing

Is an orchestrated flight

The startle, an erratic

Free-form display

The abrupt ragging

Of passing strangers

The panic of a parent

Born of an instinct

To survive

Taking hot chips

From fingers

Is no trick to be admired

What if it was a child

Eating an ice cream

Strange men with bread baskets

Heavy gut hanging over

Under-sized trousers

Feeding scavengers

On the prom

Did they never see Tippi Hedron

In the schoolyard

Hiding in a phone box

Attacked in her own house

Hitchcock’s muse

Abused

How many birds

Were baked in the pie

Before he was happy

With the scene

No birds were hurt

In the making of the film

How do they know

Did they ask

What is the pecking order

From Gull to Wren

Eagle to Vulture

If there is more to ponder

In bird culture

With their multi-coloured

Chests and crests

Why do so many Cuckoos

Still build nests.