Multicolored plants grow out of a square meter of untended dirt next to the bus shelter.
Two red dragonflies follow the yellow line up the street.
A lone mockingbird keeps me company through my restless night.
“It also bathes on the wing, gliding above the surface of a body of water, briefly smacking its breast into the water, then flying off again, shaking its feathers as it goes.”
The swift sings the same way it flies,
a burst of chittering speed then a turn or pause,
What does the carpenter bee look for when she hovers left and right parallel to the bench I’m sitting on?
The mockingbird sings an echo of the begging cat.
This city likes sundials,
but not as much as
overshadowing live oaks.