Stillness today, not unusual
as gray still predominates
trees at rest, even the birds
missing, no spitting rain
expectation
of further weather of perhaps
something of consequence
and then the wren plops
on a mossy branch,
chirps, trills, as if to say
this isn’t lasting, the calm,
the flat sky’s emptiness,
a sliver of time erased,
a dizzy wind is on its way,
a scatter of bulbous clouds,
the raspy crows will rustle a racket
and the flicker will drum the chimney,
hungry for love