there’s a catbird in the Xylosma
not nesting, exactly, but living
or hiding from the rain that’s recently returned
after just one day to drain
assess the damage and be thankful for none

the catbird flits about
and I can’t decide if
it is doing so nervously
or in a rather cavalier fashion
chi-chi-chippering away
either to herself or at me

she’s peeking through the cool dark of her dense shelter
from branch to branch hopping
getting up to eye level
maybe to assess the threat
and be thankful for none

I, perhaps nervously, step away
from the bulging hedge
begging to be pruned
pack a bowl
and smoke it
as the catbird looks on

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