Ode to the Birds

Deary, Crow, Ruby, Bea, Sissy Miss Prissy, Jackmo and even mean ole John Wayne

Can you be awoken by a noise not heard? Listen for a silence?
Yes.
The four o'clock start of Jackmo's day and before his Dad, John Wayne
began our day.
The tremendous fuss that Deary made to lay one egg
Enriched our afternoon soundscape.
The ear we kept cocked for the noises all the girls made when a predator was near?
What can we do with that ear?
What?

Can you see an absence in the landscape?
Yes.
The flock moving as one about the yard
under the trees
foraging with their cheerful industry.
Always in the glance out the window
where are those birds?
Are they good?
What can we do with these eyes?
What?

Can you touch an emptiness?
Yes.
What is so perfect so warm so smooth as an egg just laid?
At night as they settle to their roost
they allow you to touch their feathered heads.
Sometimes to pick one up and hold it to your chest
to feel it collapse against you in some sort of surrender.
What can we do with these hands?
What?

look closely and you'll see Jackmo and Miss Prissy on Crow's back