there's a mockingbird
somewhere nearby,
singing
i'm perched and listening
on the rooftop porch,
which transformed
into a garden,
in a morning's time
hands in dirt
as the city woke up
sleepily, slowly
saturday morning style
i hear that sharp trill
unmistakable
as she ducks and weaves
through borrowed songs
now she mocks
the car alarms
mimics the men on the street
as they call
from yard to yard
from car to car
i finish up
sigh, and take a seat
to survey with pleasure
the unexpected beauty
that blossomed
with a little roof-porch tetris
and some elbow grease
smiling,
i recognize the pitch of the hummingbirds' wing
zip-zzoooooooooooooooooooooooooom~
there he is,
he pauses and dives low to
check out
this new
little patch of green.
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