Saturday, July 2, 2016
There is the whistling tinnitus like a not-so-distant siren,
the bulging red eyes, the crunchy wings under our feet,
dogs snap and snack, I duck and dodge
their aimless flight on my daily walk.
They are ugly and stupid as they wander through the air
until smacking into something solid
upon discovering it is not a lover they move on
finding refuge on a mailbox or a telephone pole.
A lonely male wren sings every moment of daylight
somehow confined to the hemlock tree near my window
his loud tenacious call is incongruent with his tiny bird-body
always prepared for his lady, he wakes me each morning at 5:15.
Owls and coyotes in the dark
birds and bugs in the light
in the jungle of my suburban wooded backyard
everyone just wants to get laid.