“ZOO-kia, ZOO-kia, ZOO-kia, ZOO!”
Shouts a bird in our backyard as I settle down
To write my day’s poem, by the dawn’s early light,
Unaware of its species, unable to see
This mysterious singer who’s haunting our yard
But has planted the beat of this rollicking verse
That I’m now endeavoring to rightly rehearse.