The birds are just waking up
In the dark of predawn
As we head to the airport
To fly with the sun.

And when I come back from
Dropping the travelers off,
I meet a small earthworm
Who’s just taking off.

As I walk to my door,
The crickets are choiring,
The birds are conspiring,
The earthworms aspiring,
The airplane is firing,
And I am retiring
For another hour or two.