Two Poems

Among Birds

Now is her moment of having nothing
to prove: she speaks only
inwardly as male wings
switch colour, fly and scuff.
The already-defeated sip
at a chlorine pool. All
give the same uninflected hoot:
short-long-short:
an avian amphibrach.
Just one of this rabble is real;
the others hack and mimic, stifling
the air with noise.
A bird emerges.
Neither does he need to prove
a thing, singing to what is
...