Naming Tunes

The sing-song chatter of small birds frame a window of light. My kettle is coughing; soon its shrill whistle will startle me, even though I know exactly when it will erupt. Bears have been sighted in Ohio. Elsewhere, the plague has been seen crossing rivers on a jet ski. The birds sing something from ‘The Magic Flute.’ or Bohemian Rhapsody – hard to tell. Far from my kitchen tunes bring tears to the eyes of truckers and nurses. I imagine pelicans hitching a ride to Patagonia. A homeless family have reported blue skies in Kentucky, somehow, that’s news. Death rattles, all things pass away singing a tune inside their heads.