no tunes

it's warmer.

the birds are back to nest in the eves.

they remember or, one of them does,

where they were born,

where he or she was born.

sparrows on one corner, starlings the other

they're flying around, they are ready.

this year i'm not whistling their song,
not now.

so far they're not nest building.

i won't sound inviting tunes,

maybe they'll build somewhere else.

i'm tempted,  it's easy,  i enjoy talking to them, but

will keep my whistle shut.