Tap..tap

Tap, tap…breaks the weary dreamI’ve fought each waking nightof sleep that wanders to its end. Tap, tap…more insistent now,as light seeps past each cautious lidand slowly rouses consciousness. Tap, tap…feathers drum the glasswith urgent lack of etiquette,that peers with beaded eyeand yellow breast into my room….. It seems I’m still alive!Staring at this greeting thrustof life launched at my window-pane.Her knowing, in each darting lookand question-struck, coquettish pose,held, until exploded flightlifts her into a blossomed skybursting with laden plumesof billowing, haloed clouds.Up where sunlight dancesto the vibrant noise of crowded,beating, bodied-wingsfilling each jaded, care-worn sensewith purpose to survive. Still her tap, tap…echoes through my head,and Death will lie untaken by my bed.