Poetry About Birdsong

Before engines, a robin tests the light. A wren answers from the hedge. Each small throat announces a living border. Notes overlap without becoming a choir. The morning is argued into brightness. Listening reveals how crowded silence was.

Nothing here is only what it seems. A wren answers from the hedge. A quieter history moves underneath. Notes overlap without becoming a choir. The patient eye discovers another current. Listening reveals how crowded silence was.

Before engines, a robin tests the light. Time moves, but the image does not leave. Each small throat announces a living border. It returns us to dawn calls, territory, courtship, listening, and the many voices hidden inside the word song. The morning is argued into brightness. The day continues with a more attentive heart.