Noon: Cory Buchanan

Nuzzling bloom dew,
’round the drift of traffic engines,
infant yellows flitter.

Nestled wings wave the air,
melding under windy oaks.

Small hops,
off thin boughs,
dart roughly seen.

Tall crowns set,
opening a fast glance
to the shrouded warbler astray Honky-Tonk.