Announcement
Four thirty a.m.
The “chree-chree-chree”
sounds in the far off
greeny bog.
“Whis-tle” “whis-tle” “whis-tle”
returns the call,
floating notes through the open window.
A chorus of chirps and cheeps
overlap like leaves in a pile
at the singing tree,
all the feathered throats announcing–
messaging, instantly–
a new day
never-been-done day,
it’s-another-start-day.
So I rise, weary,
but no more wondering
at their noisy insistence-
I’d shout and sing, too–
this day, this dawn
is new.
