third week now, I judge
robin, crying its heart out every dusk
the same plaintive insistent phrases
an hour and another hour and another
nearby treetops out my window
overlooking the dramatic meadow
too many humans fail to regard

you know it better than I do, feathered one
the urgency in the season’s turning
this place you proclaim as suitable
the new heat quickens the soil
the ready worms for plucking from the ground
the plenitude of dried plant fragments
fitting for industrious nest-craft

you blast it forth
the only call you know
there is no time limit or ennui
until she comes until she hears
that she might pause to assess your situation
that she might sanction your proposition
there is nothing else which matters

I feel you, intrepid songbird
not the faintest neurosis in your raw plea
the earth has set a serious tone
I feel you

_______RS

Notes : This sound clip illustrates a robin’s early spring insistent call. Imagine it as living background hours each evening for weeks.

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