On the first day the peepers
begin to choir in the marsh,
the birds are out in droves,
starlings, roosting in the reeds
turn the brittle thicket
into frenzy, the wild racket
of unseen flapping drives
the dog mad on his leash.
These creatures, sensing presences
us simple humans can’t,
remind me what it means to be
attentive. To emerge. To know
to fight or flee or fuck. Tell me—
how might you move
if you thought you would be safe?
Look now, at the swarms of birds
dipping in and out
of one another—their collisions
and impossible resolutions.
The hungry animal they become.