Birds On The Wire Poem by Robert Edgar Burns

The electric lines are humming
Just after a fresh spring rain.
But I look up and then notice
The birds cover it again.

When one leaves it's spot up there
Another one takes it's place.
It reminds me of our Washington,
So I should cover my face.

You will hear a lot of chirping.
With their lobbying calls askew.
It doesn't make any sense to me,
And I'll bet it' the same for you!

But one thing is for certain,
By the end of every day,
A lot of white washed territory
Will be dropped along our way.

So flap your wings you birdies.
Another storm cloud is soon behind.
And those fowls up there in Washington,
Are the birds of the worst kind.