when wonder comes home
roosts in the rooftop just over your bed
you hear the morning call for food
sunrise its nourishment the small bud of its mouth peeking over the edge of the nest
by midsummer you know it will have begun to dismember
sticks and bits of fluff so lovingly assembled blowing away in the heat
of a few welcome summer breezes
but that’s for then
and this is now
morning waking stretch angle view of this corner catchment filled with the delight of one tiny keening beak
bug-eyed singing up the sun