Orange bird is bouncing around the yard.
Head tilted my way.
I wonder if you're the same one as last year.
You seem so unafraid.
I wish you weren't so careless.
There's a scraggly stray slinking about.
A one parent monster with an itchy BeeBee gun.
Always looking to have a little fun.
You're welcome to use the shrub again.
(as your sky-blue eggs are my favorite color).
Remember there's no lasting peace around here.
Only egg breakers and stained silences.
That commence just before the end of your song.
“I’m gonna get a beebee gun ya dern critters and shoot yer I’s out.”
“That’s right purty ladies grip yer hips, shut yer lips and leave the page.”
“I seen them I’s. All those ego tis tical bloody I’s!”
“Now who the dern hell else would it be, I wonder?”
“Step away from THAT page tiny Mildred!”
“That’s right, that’s it, dang it, all those dern that’s are giving me a fit.”
Calm down Dad. I think ya’s been a eatin too much alphabet soup?
“Well, I never.” “Aye, aye, I aye, in China they do……..”
“DADDY!” “Sister grab the beebees. Dad’s trying ta load
and Bitsy’s wrrrittting!!!