Outside my bedroom window is one solitary bird
singing nonstop, all morning.
The same song,
over and over.
Is he waiting for an answer,
or just singing for the pure joy of doing so.
Maybe if I ask him he’ll tell me, or
maybe it’s a secret.
A secret I may have to learn or earn.
I don’t know.
I’ll ask him anyway.
I’ll let you know what he says.