Sunday Sounds

Or should I say

Sunday morning and 

almost no sounds

mid-November greys

meet my eyes

crows caw from afar

a blue jay screams

chickadees squeak

and all the kinglets

that I see and hear

turn into chickadees

when closely observed

with binoculars

oh

traffic noises

cars, train whistles, jets roar

but on our grounds

almost nothing

greys

browns

beiges

and then

a touch of green