First Differences

The bridges are short in Dallas. Concrete pilings laid down in manmade lakes where trees still reside though don't live. It is flat and that's okay but short, which may not be. I haven't decided yet. The roads are long, wide, expansive. A commute of forty-five minutes takes you much further than from Windsor Terrace, Brooklyn to Hell's Kitchen, 7.3 miles.


Wake up from a dead hard sleep at six AM on the nose (seven AM EST) to pee. The window is open in the bathroom. The small high window is always open in the bathroom. I hear a whippoorwill crying out its morning proclamation--or rather I hear the familiar call of a bird that I've always imagined was a whippoorwill because of its noise. It is answered by a mockingbird. The call and response strives to a solid minute of sound. And then, more noises, more birds, more songs. Finches, cardinals, chickadees, blue jays, all thrown back at the mockingbird, a cacophany of morning joy. The rare car drove up the street behind the house, but that didn't deter anything, they kept calling our welcoming the sun.