See the clever mockingbird
sitting with a boat-tail
on the abandoned telephone wire?
Close but not too close, facing
the same direction, the same sunset.
A pair of house finches
cleaning each other’s beaks.
What a display of body-sharing!
I set down the spyglass.
Mergansers flying in a morning circle,
light and easy on the wing, on the eye.
They manipulate the cold current to keep
their intimate and precise distances.
Red-wings sit along the wire
like clef-notes, rising, settling, rising again.
Ibises shuttle for space in the rookery,
an exact spot to face the last light.
We watch the colors unfold like a sheet:
Purple, then pink, now blue, now rose, and gone.