The perfect perfume for any morning revere
with the wrens and chickadees,
the cardinals and goldfinch,
and from across the yard,
because they’re not a fan
of cracked corn and sun seeds,
robins, scratching for grubs in the garden.

True to their name, they sing.
True to their nature, they fly.
True to myself, I take a moment here.

There is no deep woods where the mosquitoes don’t bite.
I must return to mine own upon the last sip of my coffee.