Sitting in a haze and bits of day begin to sprinkle
my mind like the water kisses of sun rain.
The baby birds erupt in whisper chirps,
awaiting their next meal in the Bird House
that has stood vacant and rotting for the
past three years like a Foreclosure,
until a recent Nest Renovation and arrival of a Young Family.
If I walk onto the porch and the dynamic duo are Foraging,
they will immediately stop all Flights of Responsibility
to find a branch on the Cottonwood and discuss
the Human near the Offspring.
They will look at me, then to each other, back-and-forth
staccato chirps like an argument. Different parenting styles?
Gray movement behind a tree, fluid as a spring stream.
The Being emerges and I think dog, no, cat, no, coyote, yes!
A coyote! In the wild grass across the street!
Charles the Jack Russell prances forth in olfactory oblivion
while my skin cools and hair raises
and heart thrusts in pleasure at the sight of a Wild Animal.
It's the buildings that seem out-of-context under the orange sky
rippled and streaked with clouds as delicately defined as
Wedding Cake Frosting.
Crossing a valley field, my back against the horizon of
Deep Blue Twilight Peaks.
The field is half-flat, dotted with hay bundles, and half Before.
Three boys no more than six gallop across in Pursuit.
The speediest one wears a black cape.
The cowboy-hatted guardian knocks down hay with a tractor while
Keeping An Eye. I wear Sunglasses as the Sun Sets.
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