It’s beginning to snow this morning

somewhere in the world where it’s almost

winter, and someone in the Southern

Hemisphere is lamenting a change of

season just as we are

about to enter into the heat of summer.

Someone is beginning to write a poem

with the same lines this one has, whether

it’s a man or a woman I don’t know,

but I can sense them looking

into my study window and wondering

what wonderful bird it is that sings

so long, so full, so energetic, so loud

that it woke me up this morning before

the sun came up, before the alarm went off,

before I saw this other person watching

the snow cover the last blossoms of fall.