I hear a bird chirping.

I’m staring at a book,

Annoyed at the distraction.

I go to the window, and

 

I see a bird flying

Around in pointless circles.

I don’t understand why-

Except maybe the bird flies

Because it can.

 

From the sky, the bird’s eye

Sees everything:

The children happily playing tag,

The fight in the darkened corner,

The clouds moving through the azure sky.

 

But from my window, my eye

Just sees a blob of black

Circling around in empty space

For seemingly no reason at all.

 

All I see

Is the book on my desk

That I must finish in a week.

I ignore the details, the moments,

Even what the cover of my book looks like.

I’m lost in a closed world..

 

As the bird finishes its flight

And lands on its branch,

I bury my head in my book.

And the bird begins to sing.