A Fork in My Morning

I’m feeling tired. What exists, besides
my foot suspended above the cedar
slats? A goldfinch. A cardinal calling.
Why don’t I take more interest in the

birds? Here, now, it’s Spring, and there might be fox-
sparrows hopping on the ground beside the
feeders. Witchety-witchety to my
left, maybe from my east neighbor’s big pine:

funneling me into meditation
of sorts—better than a moment ago
feeling distractedly discontented
and enervated. Should I take a walk?

Unheard of to go back inside in the
middle of the morning and take a nap!