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