unmistakable
the knife slicing through daybreak ~
songs heard near and far
a striking beauty
the baltimore oriole ~
bird of my home state
He crashed against my glass
stunned into silence
he lay in shock, poor thing
I placed him in a lined box
wrapped in soft bamboo
he rested and recouped
Two hours later
I found him standing
at the edge, waiting
We made eye contact
I took a photo,
then he flew away
Boy ! he really made my day.
The Baltimore oriole sports an orange coat,
But I haven't seen one; to L.A., they're remote.
Their rich whistling song is a sweet herald of spring.
Ones like Frank Robinson have a great home run swing.
We both reach for a camera
both forget to click on the image
as a flight of rainbows takes wing.
Tangerine buds bloom into a sherbet fountain.
Orange and black ride a ray of sunlight.
“Phew, did you catch it?”
“No I got nuked by the moment!”
“Yes, better that way.” she replied thoughtfully.
whistler of orchard
sweet flute chirp weaves vivid plume ~
of haunting cadence
We both reach
for a camera,
but forget
as the moment takes wing.
Tangerine buds bloom
into a sherbet fountain.
An orange and black dartle
of downy sunshine.
Hearts abeyant,
our perception hangs
from each ribbon of light.
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