Dwelling behind misted glass
Watching the birds
It’s dream like
Edges soft and a little blurred
Watching juvenile blue tits undeterred
By the goldfinch guarding its territory
Mrs Robin hopping from fence to shed
Her small stature disguising the terror she can unleash
Lest you dare to trespass upon her niche
Worms pulled like spaghetti from the ground by Mr Blackbird
And I’m just sitting, easy come and easy go
Don’t want to survive as they do
Fighting and flitting around
Got my own dangers
Even if they’re in my head
The little bug that buzzes in my brain
A tug of war between playing life or playing dead.

©Silverbackgorilla photography June 2016