Tuesday, April 10, 2018

glancing

Which bird sings first...
here in the darkness of morning
six twenty-five o'clock
no Sun
yet
winking peering over the horizon
one bird singing
robin--wren--cardinal--jay?
a tint of peacock blue against the black blackness of night
from the east a softness rising
neighbors' lights;
one, two, three then four
behind windows where the tumble of waking
occurs with coffee & breath
more birds join the branched fray
heard
thru windows closed tight
(twenty-eight degrees feels like nineteen)
i listen
Ah! a richer blueness now--indigo
a fire lit
warming dogs with no intention of beginning their day
slumbered & tucked
prussian blue fills the sky outside
domed perfect in its endlessness
birds still their song against this brightening
bird-self-conscious?
bird-chores take precedence over song?
suddenly lapis
i rise from blankets & dogs & weariness
deep breath stretching
a yellow finch lands upon the closest tree
curious--bold but quiet
shaking off the dark slumber
this day unfurls its call to movement
of breath
of bones
of birdsong beginning once more
a westerly wind now rousing these naked April branches
cerulean becomes this day

(pretty sure it was the blue jay)




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