NaPoWriMo #6 - So many birds, and all of them oblivious.

So many birds, and all of them oblivious

Dinosaur feet. And what if their own evolution spoke?
What could it say? It would have the voice of a goose,

perhaps, or softly softly pigeon. How about this one,
where the swan is set against the backdrop of a frozen lake.

Beautiful, but what is speaking? The ice, this time?
The broken bottle? The cold webbed toes of a royal white bird

tired of swimming? Or is it me, in all of them,
and my awkward frame or too-quick summing-up.

So many birds, and all of them oblivious,
and all of them just sitting there, or swimming.