First Draft. Mixing Styles to see what happens.

A Northern Mockingbird
On the highest wire
Met me eye to eye one day
And flew down to inquire

Didn’t land
where they sometimes will
If I’m still
(or to the gill)

A mocking bird
must be atop
any twelve foot high blue
bus stop

just far enough away
and high
to keep curiosity
hers and mine at bay

But this one
had held my gaze
from the highest wire
and i in a moment loved her
as we do
when we feel the slightest kiss back

when only one of us is in love
what else can we conclude?

The indoors and the out of those doors

So when this mocking bird flew
down directly at my feet
I was already beaming at her ‘beautiful bird’
but love struck, in my mind and not outloud

The right eye regarded me
for what may have been five minutes
of Ordinary Time
Both of mine regarded her back

Oh sweet she was to me despite
the difference in our rank

The oceans, winds, mountains in scale
microscopic pulsing cells
in the right eye
of the Northern Mocking bird who loved me

The indoors and the out of those doors
Make love differently

And when the rumble of the bus turning the corner broke our spell
I addressed the Spirit one more time “Beautiful Bird”
And she flew off into the darkness of the trees
and remembers my face to this day