What a beak!
Eager to tell of ancient seafarers
leaving the port of Tyrus
to spy ahead for
murderous beasts
lurking in waters unknown.

And as madness drove
Athenians outside the city walls,
night was cast upon them
pitch black, specked with red and green eyes.

There was the bird,
observing, preserving,
when man was young
and easily convinced
by a squawky beak
in the silent hours
before Gutenbergs alarmclock
resounded in the west.

And now that very bird
has settled on the twig
above your head.