When Through My Window

When through my window flew a tiny bird, she straightway went to where she chose to roost. I laughed because it seemed a bit absurd her perching on my bed post! I deduced she'd lost her way, but now that she was here, she seemed at home. She cocked her head at me as if she had a thing to say. No fear did she display, no sign that she would flee. She had the sky and trees. What could she need inside my little room? Why did she stay? I offered her, from open hand, a seed. She bent and pecked at it right where it lay. The world is huge. . . we're free! Yet what explains that from my room now pours a bird's sweet strains? Oct. 11, 2019 For Writing Challenge, October 2019 - Bird - Poetry Contest Sponsor: Dear Heart - Wiishkobe Ode