When the sky begins to lighten, other signs
Of dawn emerge: with several sorts of birds
Joining a chorus, as song with song aligns,
Though none but they can comprehend the words.
At any moment, squirrels will start to bray
Descending from the oaks in search of nuts
That I’m about to scatter in their way
To fill their cheeks and garner in their huts.
The distant roar of a descending plane,
Precisely timed to land in dawn’s first light,
Commingles with the horn of a freight train
Asserting at each crossing its clear right.
But most definitive: our dogs declare
There’ll be no more of sleeping anywhere.