The little chickadee came,
Into my tiny backyard.
Hopped around merrily,
Like a singing bard.

Going, "Chicka dee, dee, dee."
its warning sweet and low,
That there are cats about.
So other birds would know.

Had me remembering long ago,
In the snow-covered frozen north,
How they brightened up the dreary cold,
Out foraging fervently to and fourth.

It's good to see them nesting here,
After 40 years in the neighborhood.
Knowing that feathered cousins are dying,
Having them here is, oh, so good.