Mystery Bird

A whirring tumble of notes;
a small dark bird
I cannot identify—
no name where the song might hang.

There is only sound.
This morning arpeggio startles me.
I find the singer on a high wire
beak open, breath

inflating dark feathers.
Notes cascade, showering.
My eyes cannot discern
every, any, detail,

contrast too stark
to offer a name.
Why do I have to identify
beyond small and dark?

Why do I need to classify?
Is not the song enough?

mystery bird


About Jim Stewart

Writer at Butt in Chair
This entry was posted in Birds, Gratitude, Morning, Oregon, Poem, Song, Uncategorized, Wildlife, Wisdom and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Mystery Bird

  1. Debra says:

    This may be my favorite, Jim. Lovely!

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