wings
there are leaves on the trees again
and the crabapple is blooming
the robin sings me awake
and then puts the sun to bed with
a story that has no words
and a song that carries sky
there’s a starling
trapped in the chimney
scratching code
in night-blind terror
and i cannot tell you
how much
i need
to listen
.
.
. . .
.
(p.s. i rescued the starling)
.
.
.