After a short winter, a big fire, A hard rain, now an early spring, The birds have returned To my backyard. The crows never left, and As I’m not a naturalist, I’ve no idea of what any Bird is actually named. But I can hear the different sounds: Whistles and caws, tweets and song, Some high up, some low, Some cheerful, some not so. I haven’t yet seen The feral parrots. They roost in Malibu. I hope the fire did not take them. Some in Malibu are annoyed By the wild flocks, loud and messy. But I only see them fly by free Going which way or another. Outside of the parrots, the birds I see Are not particularly brightly colored.