As weathers change the birds migrate,
Flocking en masse like living freight;
They have decanted overseas,
The notes of birdsong on the breeze.
In mapping out when this takes place,
We listen for a vocal trace;
And sift through sounds with expertise,
The notes of birdsong on the breeze.
But straining every avian whine
Requires precious thought and time;
Through manmade sounds we wish to tease,
The notes of birdsong on the breeze.
Computers can be trained to sort
The songbirds from the road transport;
They pick them out with perfect ease,
The notes of birdsong on the breeze.
So now that they are trained to find,
Migration shapes can be refined;
But changing forms might not appease,
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