Bird Calls by Connie Woodring


chirpchew, tweettweettweet, chirp, twittertoo

sqeeeez, twittwit, cheep, atweet

chirp, aacoocoocoo, hoothoothoot, chirpchirpcheeou,


Seeds, seeds, seeds

Cat, danger, cat, cat, fly away

Worms, bugs, eat, do like me

Squirrel, pesky squirrel

Bird bath, splash, get rid of parasites, fun

Mulberry bush is ripe, more fun

Hawk, hawk, dan——–

If that jerk would just put a bell on Jack the cat, we’d all be safe.

Oscar, the cat, had one, but he died. The jerk bought a new killer cat in two days.

The birdfeeder gets raided by squirrel (or should I say bushy-tailed pig) every day.

If the owner would just put the feeder further away from the holly tree and put spikes on the pole, we could all eat what is rightfully ours.

That sparrow clan invades the birdbath and splashes out all the water, water that we all have to share!

If that billionaire land developer would stop cutting all the trees down, we could build nests in safer places.

We could perch from higher branches and watch for hawks, foxes, really big birds.

We could live further away from those pesky mourning doves…it’s funerals everyday with them, and they are just as piggy as the squirrel.

If humans weren’t so stupid, we wouldn’t be dying of climate change, toxic chemicals and habitat loss.

Tweet, chirperchirp, twitterdatweettweet, chitter, scraaaaaaaaaaacawcaw  (Untranslatable)

Connie Woodring is a 76-year-old retired psychotherapist and social activist who is getting back to her true love of writing after 45 years in her real job.  She has had 36 poems published in over 25 journals, including one poem nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize by Dime Show Review.