Titmouse

He bobs his head
and I,
in hurried concentration,
continue with my task.

He moves ---
and then
nothing is between us
but the window pane.

Sitting on a ledge
beneath his feeder
as though he senses
that I need a friend?

He turns his bright black eye to me
as if he’d asked a question
and is awaiting
a reply.

For a time
nothing else is urgent.
He rests companionably
beside me.
We commune together,
soaking up the sunshine
he and I

Picking up a seed
he cracks the shell.
Bobbing his head again
he raised his crest
he flicks his tail

good by.
And he is gone.