Frequent Visitor

The robins were singing vespers in the high tree-tops, filling the golden air with their jubilant voices. ~L. M. Montgomery, Canadian author, Anne of the Island, 1915

An inquisitive
Bird sitting in a tree
Can sometimes seem
Dreamily calm
Even as it’s obviously
Fraught with tension
Giving an observer
Half a chance to wonder
If it is even thinking at all.
Just so, the bird and I are
Kindred spirits
Loving the outdoors
Making music at will
Noticing whatever moves
Oh, how wonderful it must be
Perhaps for a day or more
Quietly flitting from tree to tree
Round about the yard
Settling high in the branches
Taking notice and being noticed
Under the bright sunshine
Volume turned up
With eyes wide open
X-ray vision
You can’t help but admire
Zealous living.

Note: Poetry form is A-B-C Poem.