It is evening time, home coming
for the feathered friends.
Rustling leaves perch the weary wings
that flapped dawn to dusk
They will chirp their beak
with the longest story stretching the day.
Alongside, the little ones, crave
humming more louder the chirp
Synchronizing the beat with loving seniors
At the stroke of midnight, when
dreams paws a sleep;
one more of golden streak, simmer
along the darker nights;
sauving a beat
more brighter than the night