From bottle green pines

Sounds spill out

Magical trills

Crystal clear notes and flutes calls


Falling from hidden places,

From secret shadows deep within the leaves

And tangled twigs.

Somewhere close but invisible

the serenader hides and sings 

his rainbow repertoire.

Variations on a song filling the evening air.

This unremarkable plain brown bird

Makes us stop, makes us search

Makes us listen.