I know what it’s like
to be up so early you 
call the birds out
for laziness.
How dare they not live up
to their stereotypes? 
I thought we had a deal
here: they arouse me
with loud joy, I rise
smiling. They are 
better as metaphors
than as role models. In fact
“eating like a bird” makes
no sense either if you’ve
ever seen them eat. So:
here’s to metaphors, to 
the musical, abstemious
birds of our stories. I know 
too well what it’s like
to have mistaken what is myth 
for what is real. I know
that there’s little joy
in some mornings,
that gluttony is
the law of the land;
that some birdsong
is less a call to love
than to war.