23 December – Piped music

The branches are birdless,
I can see because they’re bare,
but still insistent birdsong
trills its trebles through the air.
I’m not in a theme park
with camouflaged speakers
but it still seems I must be hearing
pre-recorded cheepers.
Where are they hiding
in the dense twiggy hedges?
Why don’t they show themselves
and at least take the credit
for brightening the whitening
dreary of this day
with their constant concert
of first-class cabaret?