Blind inFlight

I heard a robin on my walk to work.
so loud it cut through the NPR drear of morning news in my headphones.
I pulled them off, intending to listen to a few trills.
Robin voices sound like big question marks to me.
“Are you coming home? Will you be there soon? Hello?”
This robin trilled for his life.
So loud it echoed off the buildings, through the trees
I walked for blocks, listening for the reverb
Thinking of the birdfeeder hanging from my balcony
Hoping the birds will come, wanting to feed the world
forgetting the news
remembering early mornings in my bed waking up to birdsong
robins always the loudest, cardinals close behind
Are you coming home? Will you be here soon?