Bird Morning

August 11, 1995

Like flute-song, strings

of grace notes pierce night's silence:

One bird summons dawn.

A flush of pink seeps

from horizon into sky.

A second bird sings.

A third. A fourth. Sun

rises, and in counterpoint,

descants celebrate

the soaring of the light.

Birds tell their news. They crow it:

"We've roused another day."