Imprisoned Birds

There is a tree
that traps birds.

Every bird that flies in there and
sits down
cannot come out.

None of the other birds know this
so they keep flying in there
and sitting down.

When
they can’t leave
they squawk, screech,
whistle while turning their small heads.

Convene on how it's going
to end.

Now they’ve all collected in there,
hundreds of them. Hundreds of
different kinds, hundreds of
families, grandmothers, peepers.

A civilization in a tree.

They have grown old in there.
Measures are taken to dispose of the dead.

They crap and preen.
The last resort
is a sound they make, a sound they all make
together.

It's meant to draw attention to their plight.

But from the outside, it just sounds like
nonsense.