This songbird has landed on a branch in your vineyard.
She sings merrily as she makes the olive branches a home.
However the merry melody turns to mournfully faltering twitters
as her call goes unanswered.
In a large beautiful space,
how can there be no other birds,
no other music to reply?

Neighboring chipmunks look up sometimes at her,
curious by her racket,
confused why she doesn’t stay
on the ground like them.
And all that flapping and flying around!
It’s embarrassing how she leaves her body vulnerable to ground predators
when they, the chipmunks in their great wisdom,
keep their stomachs safe down to Earth.

They watch her gather branches and grasses in anticipation,
chuffing at the waste of resources.
However the songbird worries the nest,
perhaps she had chose the wrong tree to call her new home;
should she fly off to find another homey tree elsewhere,
and abandon this nest she created with love and care?

I watch their lives as I go on walks
past your vacant vineyard and wonder
where they will all go
when it is bulldozed for another house development.

Maybe they will plant trees in the backyards.