Our beaks up not because we sit purse-proud of our feather coats of glass class, but so that our calls will carry far.
Tropical time: we tweet to native beat. Winter parks: songs for a Lochlann or Celt via solos that belt.
Both fragile and strong in body and song, by onomatopoeia, we chling-chling as we sing-sing.
Funny bunnies all around need blue-bird tummlers to relay the sound that in each hip hop–ears up or aflop, Spring springs.