The Hardy Birds of Autumn

The hardy birds of Autumn
still seem so bright and gay.
Has no one thought to tell them
that Winter's on its way?

They don’t have radiators
or continental quilts.
They sleep in eaves and hollows
and ramshackle beds they’ve built.

They don’t have supermarkets
but forage for their food
and that’s no easy task, not
once the world grows cold and nude.

And yet they still seem happy.
Bright as lanterns, they all glow;
continuing to sing their
songs, come rain or winter snow.

And thank goodness that they do,
those indomitable birds
for they make me happy too
with their chirpy, cheerful words.