First Open Window During the Pandemic
 
In the backyard bell of sound
 
          birdspeak--
    clipped    
chipped       
stac- ca- to
 
or plummy round
              as looping as childhood’s humble paths--
 
now swells in the flattened space
 
      un-racketed
 
when nature quelled the rasp
from mower and jet
 
hushed the thud
of trucks on potholed streets
 
silenced the screech and wheeze
of buses no longer un-pleating their doors
 
          like open arms.