sonora2sonoma

Safely encamped

at a friend’s house in a quaint foothill town

I look up from my book

and see a bird in the kitchen.

 

A cute little bird

pretty markings on his chest.

While I ponder what kind of bird he is

I’m certain that’s the last thing on his (or her) mind

as he/she tries frantically

to find a breach in the walls

any means of escape

from the (hardly) menacing human in the room.

 

I try to reassure the bird

that I only have its best interests at heart

as I try to nudge it toward the door.

The bird is having none of this

as it eyes me suspiciously

and fails to play along.

I try whistling to gain its confidence

to no avail.

It sings, but we’re obviously not in harmony.

 

Eventually

We both decide to call it a night.

 

***

 

In the morning

back in the kitchen

with some deft handling

involving a broom

my unwitting room-mate is freed.

 

The bird

now allowed to pursue his avian business

in settings more familiar

than the confines of my friend’s home

I depart for breakfast

in the sleepy Tuesday morning tourist town

my friend calls home.

 

I pick at my breakfast

as if it were disappointing

when it is anything but.

The Latino cook

wearing a backward-facing Superman cap

knows how to cook an omelet!

But somehow

I forgot to bring my enthusiasm.

The coffee is slow to break up the fog

that lingers

from a rough night’s sleep.

 

A fly competes for my coffee.

It’s a waiting game with flies;

Armed with more patience than prudence,

they usually win.

 

I let the fly sample the jelly the waitress left in a small bowl

hoping that will satisfy him

but soon I spy him hovering near my plate.

The insect brain

is a source to be reckoned with.

 

I look up as someone passes.

We exchange smiles in a mirror.

 

Now the fly has called in reinforcements!

One cleans his feet while perched on my reading material

while another samples the catsup.

 

Based on their behavior

flies could just as accurately

be called “eats.”

 

Bird freed, and flies fed,

the sun is coming through the cloud cover

(it turned out to be a tease)

reminding me I have a date

with a river.

 

27 October 2015

Tim Konrad