I study a Scarlet Tanager as she collides
with my plate glass window. Constantly
she gives up, 
           sweeps away,
then returns.       Thunk,
 
on the glass & that same
sudden impact at the end
with no learning. Always she
               bounces
         back & cluelessly
returns.
 
I imagine what she sees
through the glass—
 
piles of paperbacks
stack of mismatched saucers 
       half-cup of V-8 with lime
       open jar of Kalamata olives 
 
Everyone but me has left
for the day but the tanager
keeps reappearing. Thunk.
What does she want?
 
      Single violet in Coke-bottle vase
      coffee with cream in a cracked mug,
      poetry book fanned out on the footstool,
 
or me on my day off in my spangled 
pajamas & fluffy slippers? That has to be it!
She wants my sparkles & cozy covered toes.