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.