A Birder Builds a Nest on Paper
You scratch at twine that turns to sequins
Rough bark splinters
silver flecks on paper etched Your eyes
move down into the honing
sound shadows against a path
Neighborhood revealed in winter windows
cars and roofs edges
Blue black wings clear a patch pass the blind
sightings might be hummingbird, might be sparrow
instead they shape shift into diction
crown and foothold necktie breach
The flight's the flood words that flit
you rearrange the rivulet of caw caw sounds
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