Cool and crisp,
a September breeze blows
over summer bronzed legs
as I watch the cardinals
come and go.
They time their swoops
to the crickets' song,
stealing the feeder's best seed
before escaping to the closest tree,
hiding their fiery feathers
among green leaves
as they sing their birdsong
out over the water.
I close my eyes and breathe it in,
    rustling leaves
    the cricket song 
    a bird's cry
the world's cascading symphony
as a cardinal perches,
nibbling his fill.
I recognize my mom in his graceful flight
and see her freedom
in powerful wings.
Carole's birdsong rises to the heavens,
as the music around me
soars and swells
to nature's time.  

               - ljh 9/10/17