The mockingbird network
Sing the same song in the distant breeze
Until the song melts
Into the background hum of the planet
The sun red bougainvillea
Is the pulpit for the
Song of evolution from dinosaurs
To feathered songbird
In tweets and whistles
Sung in stanzas and phrases
Repeated unchanged for millions of years
What song will be sung
When mockingbirds take their next form?
Maybe crickets singing for sex
Will take up the song
Or just bacteria decomposing a leaf
Will be all that can be heard
Of the endless melody of life itself
Sings its song of sorrow tinged joy
Always the song of nature
Of crows eating her eggs
As they make ugly caw caws
The nest is here with juicy eggs
Her song of joy
Sung at sunrise or midnight
For no reason she sings in glory
Of the bounty she rides
To her demise
Of that she will sing
Until there are no ears to hear
Or air to move