Birds

Birds shook leaves
Into a cocktail of the morning sun
And frolicked between twigs
To love songs
And ballads so fervently sung

They knew no time
No ageing, no death
Resting its scythe
Over the shoulderblade
Perpetually beaming
Over the same fate

For it was the mating season
They brushed their feathers
With a palette of passion
Hushing female chatter
About which one is better

The night tucked them in
They were silently resting
Oblivious to a hunt for wealth
And betting games
Making people millionaires

They knew no time
No ageing, no death
Their grandeur and poise
Simplicity and gold in their throats
Beat all human flaws