The purple finch woos missus finch

under the cherry tree: they’ve come

to gather seed. One thrill,

another thrill until she pecks

him back to where he sits, his berry-

tinctured head and beak set

straight and stunned and still.

Ambitious bird, you’ll get

no joy from her whose

nest you’ve strawed, whose nest

she’s filled and that you both

must feed, though wings in the air

your voice will carry

and tell the world the matter.