Quotidien Birdsong

A zebra finch’s song, a silver piccolo flute, a tinny sound

White gossamer curtains drape over the dawn

A friend's letter on my fridge door: Thank you for coming to my Yom Kippur party

Your gifts of wine and cheese were not only well-selected, but as I later found out, the wine was also kosher

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I walk across my hallway and think:

I hate you so much, my soul burns cold

Bunny slippers keep my feet cozy,

Amy Winehouse on the vintage speakers warms my soul in that special way

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The neighbor’s lawn smells like pine needles

Do you ever want to eat pinecones for breakfast?

On my way to work, I look in my reflection in the bus window:

My ponytail is lopsided again

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When we all arrive to the place, we thank the bus driver, one by one,

Alighting like little forest fairies, gingerly down each step in our sensible Sunday shoes

Pigeons coo, weave in between our legs as we cross the road

Begging for breadcrumbs from the kind old lady with the pink grocery cart

In that awesome moment, I finally think of you.