I think it’s a warbler
that small bird on our yard
google images reveal all
see through glass doors of
this morning sunroom but
it might be something else
pretty black and white yellow
markings
click like on this real
spring
sun-dappled morning
and me on the inside
looking out at fledgling green
and Coltrane warbles a ballad
and my heart lifts singing sax spring stylings
and dipping beak into moist
newly-thawed
earth for a seed of
something enduring in this
transient moment of marvel
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