• 

Early morning,
before the tractors are awake,
listen to the gentle words
of the warbler in the willows,

the oriole playing flute notes
that never quite make a song,
the brush of leaves, summer-dry,
when someone passes, furtive and sleek.

Listen before you scroll
through the litany of lies,
and perhaps bird-words will linger
and some of the truth will stick.