Birds.They’re everywhere.It’s almost Spring.They fly.They flock.They chirp and sing.They eat insects and worms.And make nests of things.Hair, twigs, string.Even pieces of plastic.Birds flit through our lives, our literature, our entertainment.Tweetie Bird.The Roadrunner (and Coyote).Hitchock’s The Birds.The Sandpiper.The Albatross.The Raven.Blackbird singing in the dead of night.Nevermore.Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie.She’s got bird legs.He eats like a bird.Birds of a feather.A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.He flipped him the bird.(A little birdie told me.)The Bird Man of Alcatraz.To Kill A Mockingbird.One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.The Thorn Birds.Bird bath.Bird cage.Bird seed.Bird of prey.Yea, the sparrow hath found a house,And the swallow a nest for herself…(Psalm 84).Birdshot.Bird dog.Birdhouse.Bird’s eye view.The Maltese Falcon.Sweet Bird of Youth.I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.Birds do it, bees do it.Birdland.Yardbird (aka Charlie Parker).“You’re a birdbrain.”“Oh yeah? Well, you’re for the birds.”Bird is the word.That’s Mason.
Renee Walker is an author, poet, and real estate broker on the square www.reneewalkerwriterpoet.com