• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 05

RURAL HOURS Page 10 Bird of the Day

My garden is not just jabbering macaws
and garish hummingbirds, a green-headed
poppy finch is weaving its soft pale nest
with interlacings of tiger silk and delicate frayings.

Her call shuffles & shifts like the sad tones of a bass flute
played with the gentlest of breath. It stills our chatter.
This bird, usually only found among verdant streams
and welcoming catalpa leaves, now perches here

as alone as a nighthawk. Tales are told that poppy
finches guard a magic stone in their nests making them
invisible to any predator, I gaze and find myself
lulled into an almost narcotic reverie - ghost

beetles,  snails of paradise & the most vivid
types of lightning fly. Please, don’t disturb me.