The Bachelor Mockingbird

I am not sure what the ladies don’t see in him.

Do their ears hear a dissonance, or a lacuna in his melodic line
that my human hearing does not register?

He smiths his song day and night,
and weehours morning as well,
driven, sleep-deprived.

(Is his prospective mate a night-owl, too, dawdling at dawn
with her feathers or just chatting with friends?)

His inexhaustible joy and longing
has infected the neighborhood
with a kind of pleasant unease.

When he falls silent
Should we be happy?
Perhaps his top-40 has drawn a mate!

Then he begins anew,
and we smile sadly
yet
pleased to have our work and play accompanied
by his hopeful soundtrack.

Courtesy Cornell Ornithology Lab

Mockingbird Display, photo and birdsong courtesy Cornell Ornithology Lab

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