Lying in Bed in the Dark, I Silently Address the Birds of Arizona
by Billy Collins

Oh, birds of Arizona,
who woke me yesterday with your excited chirping,
where do you go to die?
So many of you, and yet never a trace
of your expirations,
no lump of feathers happened upon
here on the pavement
or another there on a square of lawn.

Are you down in the scrub turning in circles?
Do you tilt and fall on your side?
Do you lie there breathing among the warm rocks,
lie there breathing,
lie there
as the moon rises,
as the members of your flock fall silent for the night,
and the earth revolves around the center of your tiny eye?