Porch Of Babel
The magic bird app
counts two dozen kinds of birds
outside our apartment
on this early Saturday morning.
I used to know
quite a few of their songs,
but like any language
it fades if you don’t use it.
Now it’s just chaos
and woodpeckers.
And mourning doves.
Sadness is universally recognizable.
And blue jays,
because so is being obnoxious.
/ / /
4 April 2026
Charlottesville VA
Day 4 of National Poetry Month
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