One bird
from fence to grass
to fence to holly tree
to wall
to grass to holly tree
brown flicker, lick of red
a second still
an eye.
Crows come and go
two magpies chacker, flap.
I spy on holly –
branches, sprigs.
No splotch
of knotted shreds.
Daybreak till late
whirr
swoop
from seat to gate
to holly tree.
I pry again,
a blackbird flees.
Then scratch of leaves
she lands
robin
by my arm
small chirrup
no alarm.
I chirrup back.
She doesn’t fly.
I let her be.
Indoors, I see her (small from here)
criss-crossing garden air
back forth
warp weft
inside her beak
moss
blade
breath.