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?

(photo: etsy.com)