In the dark and empty night,
Chatter fills the night
And disrupts my sleep.
I moan and turn,
Only to turn again.

Morning arrives
And with that comes chirping.
That incessant tweeting
Permeates the air and leaves me weary.

They have taken over that massive oak by my house.
Churlup Churlup Gadada. All day long.
They thrive.
They dominate the branches, the shade, the whole block.
They call out, claiming good news, bad news, gossip.
They demand attention.
I give it to them, though unwillingly.

An unexpected surprise appears
Vroooarrrrmmmm
Chainsaws roar as they exterminate the bark.
Branches fall to their deaths.
By late afternoon all that is left
Is the last bump of life of the oak tree,
Beheaded of its entire splendor.
Its haircut looks disastrous.

Days wind down.
One day I close my eyes and breathe
And realize, with a pang of my heart,
That they are gone.

Every now and then I hear a twitter,
Subtle and fragile.
I congratulate the creature upon its survival
And wish it a happy life,
As I slip into sleep