The day the white-eyes come the little mejiro
Hop-flick their way branch to branch outside
Windows intent on bug catching with their needle
Beaks they sing on oblivious to my gaze
My wide-eyed hunger for moments like this
When beauty stands still and vibration holds
Its breath I’m holding mine too as I study first-
Hand distinct plumage and perfect Sumi-e
Circles ‘round each eye everything’s hungry
On this planet I’m eating seasonal appearances
Of little passerines and they’re eating little bugs
Eating little buds but there’s gut-ache
And heartburn ahead for all or one of us
Because there’s too many of us because there’s
Not enough and the precious akepa can’t keep up
And when we’re not looking the mejiro invade
Hawaiian forests the truth of the falling leaf
Spiraling to earth in a summer breeze
Is written in a language spoken when every
Living thing was still speaking to each other
Nothing fell off the cycle of life without a smile
Sadness didn’t tighten the lips or furrow the brow
Breathing in was breakfast and breathing out
Fed the world out of the forest a hawk soars
An i’o now we’re the ones outside the windows
Turning and turning necks at their limits
Eyes feasting on this morning’s cloudless
Sky and a roofline followed to the edge of blindness
Where three geckos inch towards each other
Sticking out their tongues tasting the sun

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