A shrill note
pierces night’s curtain –
an insistent, pestering alarm
Is it loneliness
that motivates the caller –
the need for a warm body
to calm her feathered fears
or a throaty hum to lull her?
Or is this an infant cry,
a hunger for nourishment
anxious in separation
waiting for mother’s
regurgitated assurances,
father’s watchful stance.
An onerous honk
breaks through
the high-pitched peep
and then, as
warmth wanes
a softer, sweeter
melody presents
followed by
a laughing trill
avian pleasure
prefacing night’s slumber.
One Woman's Quest 
This post illustrates so well the difference between a poet (you) and the rest of us: If a bird had disturbed *my* sleep, I would have muttered “darned $@#! bird” and rolled over! But not you. You turned it into something beautiful. And very well done!
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Ha ha – so true. Such a tortured life this mind that does not quiet. Bless you Heide – I don’t feel like a poet, just a woman trying to get these words out.
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Love this one!
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Thanks Jazz. What do you do when a bird disturbs your sleep? Pick up a pen and write, lol.
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