waiting for me

a fireplace flame flickered small by my shoulder
and i was not unpleasantly distracted by the heat,
while the seasoned white oak went about its business of burning a
cozy memory inside my room.
and standing in a languid manner, i walked
to the large window, and from that window
by the hearth i could see a few discarded drawings of utmost delicacy
hidden partially by palm fronds which were not real, yet
evoked a message of wind-blown days from my youthful past:  and i had
a glimpse of a blond boy wearing a dark sweater classically
decorated with stars and half moons across his chest, but it was brief as he was fleet
of foot and also was not real.  i returned his wave, a sudden movement
which might not have been a wave, after all.  Smoke from my chimney
was exciting a neighborhood dog as i could hear the bark coming through
my stone walls, penetrating not only my view but my thoughtful reverie!
outside, there was a grey squirrel chasing dozens of hungry birds
but they quickly returned to an offering of fresh suet and took chairs
when the squirrel left his tail in a fit of pique.  my song birds no longer need forks or
knives or spoons and long ago they did away with their special China, and they
still fly with an athletic grace attributable to long hours of colorful practice in the air.
they do not like to fly against a starlit night sky, or any night sky,
as their eyes work best in the sun and friendly air of daytime.
no frogs remained in the petite pond where the 9 fish reclined
as though waiting for warmer weather on the beach, while a sickly black
male cat stalked the attentive birds in his usual crouch, eyeing his
opportunity for mischief.  a clean-shaven bare-chested man
seemed life-size as he filled the sunflower seed box before
making a quick return to his house, to see if he could find his hiking boots.
i understood all this from my window before returning to the fiery scene,
where i found you waiting for me, with a blueberry in your mouth.