From bottle green pines
Sounds spill out
Magical trills
Crystal clear notes and flutes calls
burst
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.