"______"

why is it that there is

always

one bird singing at night?

as if he doesn't realize that his voice carries

for yards

like someone who doesn't know

that the whole house can hear you

when you sing in the shower

this is awkward.

i feel embarrassed for him.

i imagine him

in the daytime

listening to the other little birds

calling back and forth

having their little bird conversations

he's sitting in

and waiting for just the right moment

feels the adrenaline rush

his feathers fluff up

there's a sharp intake of air

and his chest puffs out

just as all the little birds fly away

a social reject bird.

it's sad.

now his song is halting

testing

as if to say

what's so bad about this, anyway?

it lapses into a trailing

lonely monotone

before he seems to

muster up some faith

and tries to sing again

i decide that we are more alike than not

as i suck the night air in

and watch the end of my cigarette burn

knock the ashes to the ground

mulling over conversations

i didn't have

words

i didn't get the chance to speak

but the bird defeats me

he is, at least, singing out loud

i hear you.

**

yes, a bird poem. ...it's like emily dickenson with bumblebees, except that it's everyone with birds. but this really happened. ;)