The birdsong is harsh this morning.
Messiaen cacophony -
strident,
raucous,
squawking.
Crows, cockatoos, currawongs,
even rosellas
with their squeaky-toy voices
sound
so loud.
Perhaps they remember
my screeching last night
when I couldn't make you understand.
And now my throat is sore
and you have turned your back.
The birdsong is harsh this morning.
Alison Cassidy
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-birdsong-is-harsh-this-morning/
