Alone's First Thought

alone's first thought
is birdsong (it matters not the where
or the why orthe whohownow) buzzing
in this tenderness of air

while humanity sleeps to the whirrhumclick
of its own devices
the world yawns
scratches its hindparts
and lumbers about its morning routine

wren and rabbit hop in dewlight
and nothing (not minute nor macro nor
mysteriously more) disturbs
the flush-tipped dawn that is not
miraculously natural

alone's first thought
is birdsong

((c) TLPatten, 02/2004, all rights reserved)