The Morning Commute

Each morning they make the commute
From nesting lands toward the rising sun
Shining in their eyes and warming
Thousands of them
With their squeaks and squawks
Each and all protesting the commute
Or sharing their thoughts on breakfast
As part of their morning ritual
Only to do it all over again in reverse
Toward a setting sun
With the glory of a day being done
Still protesting their commute
Or telling of the day’s wins
As they squeak and squawk their way home
Just to do it all again, tomorrow.