Who was that little bird I heard
its clear voice calling He’s he-ere!
across and back through the trees
to a like-minded other who called
it back again and again?
I had no good sighting but committed
the sound to memory with those words.
He’s he-ere! Now I hear Teacher Teacher Teacher
outside my window, my clumsy ears
converting the calls of birds to
human words. In like manner we
interpret each other’s words as we
see fit, right or not and if not
oh what trouble we bring
upon ourselves.
