Now What’s the Matter?

Now what’s the matter?
I thought, in the still-dark
kitchen with my water glass

hearing a recurring
noise like a creak
in my seventy-year-old house.

But after nestling
back in bed, I could tell
it was coming from outside—

a bird in the little
pecan tree near my
bedroom window was chirping

to my half-caring soul
that dawn was coming soon,
not to worry, lie down, rest.

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