there's a bird’s nest in the mailbox again. 
today, you’re unsure if it’s outgoing. 
you pay its postage stamp for the mailmen, 
close the box and raise the flag, not knowing 

if there’s an egg to cook or what crowing 
means in the dead of night, or how to tell 
a birthright tumbleweed to get going, 
winnowing flight squall, wuthering farewell. 

but no, let it stay for tomorrow as well, 
let it hatch, let it peck, let it shit on 
the incoming credit card offer, dwell  
in the shreds of all that it comes upon. 

see it now, as it comes to sentience 
leave it now, on the brink of transience 

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end rhyme adversary

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