"Behind the Blinds"

(photo by: R. Gardiner)

While reading in the living room
(the blinds had long been closed)
I heard a bird alight a branch
(some wren I’ve since supposed)

The only way I’ve come to know
(because the blinds were down)
Is cause, I saw its silhouette
(as on the branch it bound)

The bird began to wash its wing
(which fluttered in the breeze)
And then relayed the morning news
(to twisted, crooning trees)

Until it felt me notice it,
(it measured sweet respite)
And on the blinds, its shadow fell
(before it took to flight)

And then, I thought, it’s surely gone
(the blinds were in the way)
The shape became illuminate
(it must have gone to play)