In Spain, the birds arrived before dusk
to densify the solitary cedar
with their pre-coniferous apartment chatter.
Worlds and years away birds arrive
before dusk, to fill the boughs
of my neighbor’s twin pines.
I wonder why they gather?
What is it they have to say?
They must know more than I.
They have taught me well to not heed
the selfish drone of men or women
to spend my time poeticizing
about the chatter of birds
as they arrive one at a time
to let us know they’re home.