Listening:  to a swirling – twirling – small stones flung – a sound created by the Mockingbird

at the side of the road…

Mimicked perfectly by the other Mockingbird [on the other side]

-- then –

They warbled together in harmony.

---------------------------

White feathers, Jet Trails, [gray smoke] near the horizon turning PINK in the sunrise…

There’s a tall thin tree, withered limbs, bare limbs

-- Blink Blink –

Then I saw a smattering, of perched black birds

(Now you see me, now you don’t…).