Everything a wren is
is evident in the twitch
of tail feathers, head and wings
that indicate an itch
to change a peak perspective
to hop from perch to perch
to zero/zoom on some small thing
within aspect of its search.

For that essential something
that something that it wants
is coiled in its bearing
compelling it to hunt;
if not behind this leaf or twig
that bush or bark or bough
if not somewhere on this tree
to another it will go.

How like me most mornings
pecking through my words
alert to find the finest ones
the choicest nouns and verbs
to fill an empty appetite
for a fulsome phrase or line;
like my friend, the common wren
I’m searching all the time.


© by Mike Orlock.
Used with the author’s permission.