horn (phoenix)

One chirpy bird
High up in a tree
Singing his songs
To all the world -

When suddenly
He finds it’s full
(Filled to the brim
With the sounds
And the twigs
And the feathers
Of the others)
Already

So he decides
To take a rest
In his own nest
His hearth & home,
His horn of plenty

Swoops down fast
Lands on his feet
And looks around
When surreptitiously
He finds it empty