In the quiet of the morning

long before the cock does crow

the early bird, she comes a singing

(hard telling what she knows)

♪

Seems to me, her tweets are secret-

coded notes with birdy words

so concise and quite direct

the foreign language that I heard

♫ ♪ ♫

Sometimes, the world just seems to stop

I know not how or why

alone we stand — no stage — no props

but moments do pass by

♪

In the stillness of the waning night

no single thought in mind

I watched the dark give way to light

and understood their kind

♫ ♪ ♫

♥  Akin to free  ♥

Uncle Tree

Photographs by Keith Alan Watson

Bald Eagles provided by Lady Fortuna

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