A fledgling on my windowsill this morning. From nowhere the little girl rises to my throat as the bluebird day flies in the mnemonic of a mnemonic in its beak. The robin wishes to be each and every one of them. But you see, it’s the rain tree! What else the residue but the cicadas’ smirk and my nostalgia.

barking democracy
the pack of strays chases
a new stray

Daya Bhat