Thanks, Flying

A volley of robins shot by.

Singly, others perch on dipping branches

to gulp red fruit.

They're conversing in the neighbor's tall tree.

Whether they shift south or not,

this could be their last chance 

to flock before winter.

The dog doesn't need to bark at this;

birds are a complete non-issue.

Rain on my old brown cap 

has the quality of mercy;

later I will change the sheets.

For these and other blessings

there is gratitude below

and maybe in the air.

November 26 2020