The Chipping Sparrow | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Hudson Valley; Chronogram
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The Chipping Sparrow 

Somewhere, somewhere
in the hills
this feathered beast
comes without frills.
I see you there
in the tree.
Pretending that you don't
see me.
What are you doing?
You know full well
Chipping sparrow spawn of hell;
Oh, wing -ed demon,
foul wicked fowl.
Chip chip chip
Chip stop it NOW!
Searing like a burning coal;
I feel your chipping
in my soul.
Flee! Fly! Go away!
I can't take another day!
Any more would be a curse!
There's no way it could get worse.
Thou feathered fiend, you're in my head!
Another chipping starts instead!
A chipping battle, if you will.
Another bird I'll have to kill.
Yes, that's what I will have to do.
Kill the one, then number two!
Thwick! Thwack! Feathers fly!
Die, you chipping bastards, die!

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