it is just dusk
and my crazy heart is filled
with love for the flitting of birds about the yard
not noticing
me,
here in this chair
here in this chair
bursting with desire
the screech owl awoke me at 4am; I swooned.
over coffee the wren, concocting a plan
to build a tiny nest on the porch.
sun set the blue of the jay and the cardinal on reddish fire
who am I but some lovesick
schoolgirl
mad with longing for the settling light in the leaves
the barely perceptible breeze,
the birds,
the night
