People Watching

When out and about on an average day,
The season is not all important,
One can behold many an interesting sight,
More exciting than exotic birds in flight.

Find a well-crossed place to sit and stay
Where activity is most prominent,
And begin to observe the creatures there;
Be sure to not alert them with your stare.

It takes no time to discover the Twittering Wren,
Shrill cries of mirth echoing around.
Obnoxious titters screech in the ear;
She is oft heard before visually found.

You spy the Western Hand-Talker
In all his splendorous gesticulation.
Wild gestures designed to draw the eye
Of possible mates seeking cohabitation.

There! The Southern Warbler next,
"Quietly" singing with loud overbearingness,
Belting her supposedly subtle song,
Always believing she has a lark's finesse.

Then there is the Northern Sulker,
Slinking about with furtive glance,
Trying to remain unnoticed by predators,
Performing his erratic avoid-dance.

Next you spot the Eastern Swagger,
Parading about with colorful pride,
Strutting with inflated self-importance,
Reveling in the attention drawn by her stride.

There sits the occasional Brooding Jay,
Menace and foreboding in his steady stare.
His dark eyes glare with frosty indifference,
Scaring away any who may try to care.

Further observation finds the Hungry Swallow,
Open mouthed and chomping loudly.
A "see-food" loving creature, it's certain,
He gulps down his captured meal quite proudly.

Of course you sight a pair of Love Birds,
Far too comfortable demonstrating affection,
Cuddling and cooing in sickening chorus,
Not bothering with the privacy of seclusion.

There are others flitting and flying all around you:
Owls sitting in wide-eyed, diligent surveillance;
Hawks preying on the unaware, victims;
Quail herding unwieldy offspring, tiny miscreants.

Inevitably, you see one you cannot identify,
One who seems out of place 'midst others.
Then you realize with shared satisfaction
He is a Watcher too; a kindred brother. Ω