The hollow sounds before daylight,
hillside Roadrunners awakening in the black,
their plaintive solos, reverberating notes
awaiting an answer, a location, a place
to be filled in the future, a pile of twigs
within the spines of cactus
beneath this soft comforter of clouds,
days trailing a meager rain to shield us
and the dew upon the grass.
The day is yet empty, moments awaiting
purpose and order. In my mind, I see
the tools I’ll need to be useful.
drycrikjournal 
Beautiful words and a cute photo, John. I’m always amazed at the places birds will make nests. Saguaro cacti often look like bird apartment buildings, which sometimes isn’t too good for the cacti but it is fun to see birds coming in and out.
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Thank you! The birds are a nice diversion these days.
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