Early Bird

By Myles Jeffery

The early bird squawks at me,
Chirps at me,
Cries at me,
Does anything to wake me.

And when he does,
I glare out the window,
Searching for the
Suspect.

He is nowhere in sight, so I
Release my still-sleeping muscles
And drop into the depths of
My pillow.

Long swords of sunshine
Pierce through the glass,
And I give up hope
Of falling asleep again.

The early bird crows in merriment,
And flies away to rouse
Another victim.