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,
(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
pleased to have our work and play accompanied
by his hopeful soundtrack.
Mockingbird Display, photo and birdsong courtesy Cornell Ornithology Lab