hears them through closed windows
newly arrived black birds with sateen bodies
glistening in sunlight
bowing limbs in the ash tree

avian white noise
drowning out the nuthatch
and chickadee, mockingbirds
beginning to tune throats

grows uneasy at such
interruptions since she enjoys
quiet more now than in her youth
lives for chapel stillness
such that even the sudden creak of a pew
jolts her from prayer

prefers to reminisce
with her own thoughts
although Coelho tells her
It’s what you do in the present
that will redeem the past

and so she tries to accept
the flock of grackles comparing
peregrinations that so disturbs
her quiet and wishes instead
she might translate their wonder
born of wandering back from
such long and varied journeys

imagines herself in feathers
instead of the habit and stills
then, becomes peaceful, quiet
until a pew creaks.