An Evening In Late February

Dark shadows in the Parkland in the shade of the trees
And the evening is warm with a very slight breeze
And the pee wees are calling them one cannot mistake
One hear them at twilight and noon and daybreak,
'Tis said that bird song is a territorial thing
That 'tis not for the love of song that the bird sing
Yet even if I did live on for a century or so
Of Nature's ways little I would seem to know
An evening in late February as the sun goes down
The wattlebirds call in the park of the town
Brown March will give birth to the southern Fall
And the warm days of Summmer in hindsight we'll recall,
Today was a warm one near thirty degrees
But the twilight brings with it a cool freshening breeze.