A songbird wants to write another chapter Of avian survival, which is why Whenever it espies a cruising raptor It goes to DEFCON 1 and vents a cry Which humans hear as “seet-seet” or “dee dee” But other songbirds hear as “Sharp-shinned hawk At five o’clock!” and then the masses flee Or freeze in place or set up such a squawk The hawk intending a surprise attack Perceives the game is up and veers away To let the purple finches, wrens, and black- Capped chickadees abide another day. A chipmunk hears the racket and decides He also serves who finds a hole and hides. —Henry Rathvon
In the grass a field mouse freezes mid-skitter, no hawk's hors d'oeurve today