As If
by Ruth Carr
As if he knows
when eyes go searching him
stalls his song
waits for me to turn.
And then the swell of notes
opening on air.
An answering call and
on they correspond
waves of variations
like the trees themselves
between my back
and his bright beak
every sound
a flooding into leaf.
And I think this may be like us
unlike as separate species.
Let distance play its part
in listening
where I must walk away
and let you sing
hear your voice in everything
between us.