First published in July 2021

No matter how hard you try
ears periscoped to the skies,
some secrets are known
only to songbirds.

They hoard the music
of morning deep
in their throats until the sun
rubs sleep from his eyes.

Like kids, keeping gobs
of gum, stickers, pebbles
in trouser pockets, songbirds
store secrets in their wingtips.

Ghosts of the air, they
follow unseen maps, soar
on thermals, keeping knowledge
of flight to themselves, secret

as their morning song-sheets.