Trilling
Oh, it’s thrilling to hear trilling
As I sit out in the shade.
All that tweeting that’s repeating
Is the reason I have stayed.
For I’m betting that the sweating
To which humankind is prone
Has no meaning to convening
Birds on branches where they’ve flown.
Such sweet twitter as they flitter
Or sit warbling in trees
Makes me giddy; it’s so pretty
That it puts my mind at ease.
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