We wake up and listen
as the sun climbs
over our windowsill
and the park erupts with birds
the gossipy honk
of the seagull
the wise gurgle
of the pigeon
the nag
of the crow
I ask my son
what he thinks they are saying
they’re talking about airplanes
he says with a look
that implies
he thinks I should know this
and just then
one rumbles over our roof
and I think he’s probably right
all those birds
wondering what makes
their metal friend so angry
that he roars
whenever he flies by.