Lilting with query
the native thrush
a fourth note rising
Leaves the verse hanging
sometimes a whip bird lashes in
its sudden confident crack
Waits for the derailleur to engage
undaunted they interweave
then pause for my whistle back
Side look in a perturb slight
they know they have the numbers
and mimicry needs the energy
Of a committed warbler
James Walton Poetry 