The Birds

Time was when they'd visit and tarry
For some while...rapping and tapping...
Until I'd clap and shout...ranting,
And they'd leave with much rambling
And flapping, every single time--
All of them--two, three, sometimes four,
And onetime--a lot...I dared not count, nor wish
To remember, because the sight of them
Was eerily like a scene in a Hitchcock movie,
I saw exactly--two scores and one year ago.
And when one day, I saw two of them--
Dead on a sidewalk, tears welled down my eyes.
The sight of a stone (the size of a golf ball),
Next to one...my heart sunk heavy with rage
That I pounded my chest--two, three times...
Shouting loud, so loud that I got the attention
Of the driver and riders of an MTA bus passing by.