Bird As Fish

Travelling home at 4:00 am from a friend's house, I was entranced by the birds singing. They seem to sing at all hours of the day and night here. Maybe they are happy for the springtime. I did not stop when I reached my destination, indeed, I kept going. They reminded me of morning. Though the sun had no thoughts of coming up yet, though the air was chilled, though it was 4:00 am, and I was wasting time, nothing could stop me while the birds sang. And while the birds kept singing, I kept pedalling.

But then, being sensible, I turned around in an empty parking lot, and returned home. After all, who cared that the birds were singing? My better sense told me that I needed rest, told me to go to bed. But little eyes poked out from behind the skirts of authoritarian good sense, and I smiled a mischevious, happy smile. I had, after all, triumphed momentarily. I had got to hear my birds sing. In a moment of uncontrolled, unscheduled freedom, I kept pedalling.

©2004 All Rights Reserved MJ Jackson
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