A perennial question

Asked of Islanders

Is for the birds

Who’ve flown the coop

Nests left dormant

Cottages emptied

As the crow flies

to warmer skies

Birds and snowbirds

Don’t include turkeys

The innocuous fowl

Of another feather

Are ground bound

Free to roam year round

In a winter wonderland

Strutting their stuff

With their imperial air

At a pace without haste

Impervious to all else

Except nature’s choice

About which they rejoice

Squat back and relax

They’ve a one -way ticket

In a coveted winter cloister

With a bird’s eye view

Of soon to be spring

When songbirds sing in cadence

To flittering flapping wings

As hordes of birds descend

On lamppost nests

Cooing over lightbulb eggs

Missing what it’s like in winter.