The wide-eyed owl
Is unique in his wisdom
For he learns everything
By listening
And always asking
Whoo?

While the parrots
Brightly colored
But dull-witted
Simply echo the voices around them
Never questioning
The phrases they repeat

The miniature wooden birds
Trapped in their tower
Also cry out
To signal their release
And the top of the hour
Reminding us over and over again
That our obsession with the passing time
Is just a little bit
Cuckoo

The delicate nightingale
In turn
Sings its beautiful melody
A tune so haunting and mysterious
It can move you to tears
Without ever telling you what it means

The birds are talking
But
In the words of the canaries
Talk
Is
*Cheep