Wings & Roots

Sometimes a warm porch
simply cannot be ignored;
seeing my orange tabby
sunning himself on a deck chair
drew me out to the early Spring.

Leveraging myself down to the deck
with my alligator cane I lay prone,
with my hoodie bundled for pillow
and one foot dangling to the ground;
warm shine welcomed me gently.

One ear, turned up, heard calls
of dozens of migratory starlings,
while set upon, my year-round
mockingbirds claimed rights
to all the bugs in the homestead.

Car traffic plowed through
unaware of territorial disputes
as wind played chimes on pipes
hung under my breeze-way
and still I felt the tender sun.

The other ear pressed against my hoodie
heard the flow of blood through my head,
but beneath that was the faint murmur
of acorn roots flying through the soil
reaching upward for light and life.

All for a warm porch I shared my day
with a tabby whose wisdom I grew
to respect when placing myself
in his spot in the sun and found
roots of wings and wings of roots.