The Birds

The birds sang in the trees.

I rolled over and uncovered my head, listening,

Staring out and watching the slow breeze.

I contemplated what the birds thought of

And sighed with ease.

The sun shone bright,

Through the window it glared.

I squinted my eyes, all I saw was white.

A bird flew to the ledge,

I thought, ‘Do you dare?’

Blue mixed with grey,

Eyes beady as could be.

The bird looked back and forth,

Then right at me.

We watched each other for a moment,

And that’s when I heard it:

The blissful music

From the birds in the trees.