There’s no commotion
This time of year
For our feathered friends
Who’ve gathered near;
Islanders
Not willing to revoke
Their view from above
Where they watch townsfolk;
Who stay all year
Just like they do
Staking their claim
The whole winter through;
Until bitter cold’s gone
And warm days return
When summer people come
Streets and beaches churn;
With tourists too busy
To stop and see
Beauty still exists
After summer’s breeze;
When islanders
Reclaim their town
And birds rejoice
In peace found
If they could talk..this is what we would be told! Lovely!
Yes, I bet they’ve seen a lot of things – lol!