Birds
Relatively few people notice
the migration of birds in temperate climates
however, on a still morning the chirping
will sometime rise above the metered
ticking of a hanging wall clock
the white noise of traffic
swirling up asphalt thoroughfares
rolling up hillsides
through parched canyons
travelling from comfort of a warm bed
to the duty of concrete buildings
where bodies
and minds
and souls
minimize contact while speaking to machines
bustle along fabricated pathways
fulfill agreed upon responsibilities
staying in motion
counterclockwise
and then, maybe in the silence between two breaths
a breeze, as innocent as a child's hand
caresses a wind chime
its muffled song an unexpected conversation
that one hears between children
who smile
and run
and jump
and flutter from swings
to slides
to branches
where they briefly sit
and belt out a song
against the grey of a spring morning
