Cool of the Morning

The birds are getting louder.
They’re evolving to compete
With the roar of the city.

This morning the roar is dull,
The traffic just a whisper,
One dog bark in the distance,

So the birds are bloody loud.
From the sounds of things
Only two or three species
Dominate with their racket

This pared-down ecosystem.
The future. Listen to them
Lust for territory, sex.
The past. Songs will change. Songs last.