My local songwriter
the blackbird
is up on his pole
again.
Most evenings
when the sun is downing
to the west
he comes and gives us
a concert,
he has no score
just opens his beak
and  trills.
There is repetition
with variance
and pause.
Sometimes he is so eloquent
that people in the street
stop and listen
and smile at each other
content for a moment
to listen to a genius
granting us solace