It’s beginning to snow this morning
somewhere in the world where it’s almost
winter, and someone in the Southern
Hemisphere is lamenting a change of
season just as we are
about to enter into the heat of summer.
Someone is beginning to write a poem
with the same lines this one has, whether
it’s a man or a woman I don’t know,
but I can sense them looking
into my study window and wondering
what wonderful bird it is that sings
so long, so full, so energetic, so loud
that it woke me up this morning before
the sun came up, before the alarm went off,
before I saw this other person watching
the snow cover the last blossoms of fall.