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Birdwatching
Siren Hand

Morning coffee as normal.
I divide my front window into tic-tac-toe grid,
                                        into nine-section, 
                                        into phone keypad.
It's easier for me that way, 
                               to map how the birds come and go
                                           free-form Patterns of  Flight.
Take this, the case study– 

At 11:37 (Local time): 
one adult male sparrow darts
       from Northwest Field of  View (Keypad 1) 
       to sundeck feeder (Keypad 5), squabbles with 
two already-present adult male sparrows over seed.  
They peck at each other for greeting,
         establish their status,
         take freely from what's allowed. 
 
Also 11:37 (Local time): 
four adult female finches, 
seven Adult male sparrows,
three adult male starlings 
(all) 
     dig at the ground (Keypad 8), 
     scramble for the yield of  another's destruction.
Seed spills from the feeder (Keypad 5 to Keypad 8).

At 1139 (Local): 
two adult cardinals fly from east Field of  View
       mill at the Woodpecker feeder (KP6).
At 1139 (L): 



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two adult chipping finches hop along the path 
       from North FOV, 
       upset the whole roll-up in KP8.
At 1139L: 
one military-aged male
–no, sorry, correction– 
one adult              male cowbird 
       glides from SE FOV 
                  to ground food at KP8.
At 1139L: 
one adult male sparrow departs from KP5, 
                                                    to     KP3
                                                    out of  NE FOV.

1140L: their activity continues, 
            Nothing Significant to Report. 
1141L:         activity continues, 
            Nothing Significant to Report. 
1142L: NSTR.
 
1143L: my dog blitzes, 
            tumbles in froth-mouthed uninvited explosion,
            deepest joy at sunlight-scattered colors–  
                                    no soul left in aftershock
            still.
 
How long does one watch after the upset,
                                wait for destruction reset 
                                       for no trace
                                       for next pattern
                                       for life to return to normal?
 
If  I wait
      watch, perhaps



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    I'll see Bright Boy—
               slim cardinal, not yet witness to how 
               his body will shimmer,
                            will scatter in the sun
                            will form both 
                                                                   fountain and 
                                                                   firework.
 
 I divide my front window into tic-tac-toe grid,
                                        into nine-section, 
                                        into phone keypad.
It's easier for me that way,
                               to sit: 
                                         still
                                         watching
                                         waiting
                                         wondering 
                 if  they'll all ever come back.