My foot rock, rock, rocking
Mimics the lift and drop of waves.
Breeze in the walnut leaves
Sounds like the hiss of surf,
And a car passing on the road—
Wind in the rigging.
Where is the keening of gulls
Tumbling through the salt air?
Replaced by a cricket in the stone wall
And a bullfrog over the road in the pond.

Sudden screech of blue jays
Sounds a false note,
Arresting my downward spiral.
A drama fit for a king plays out.
Ten seconds and the act is done.
Attack, plunder, infanticide,
Feathers.
Distraught phoebe’s screech
At the sight of their nest
Dislodged from the eaves.

My head sinks back down,
Eyelids grow heavy again.
Dip, dip, dip.
Consciousness hovers like the yellow
Swallowtail over the dame’s rocket.
Swing gently into sleep.