These are the birds, small,
fragile but resilient,
without which morning
could not exist. These
are the lupine and zinnia,
swaying in early light.
This is his morning destination
for an hour or two of silence,
a chance to fill a couple pages
transcribing soft breezes
accompanied only by the rising
pre-dawn birdsong.
—————[|||]—————
RDP Saturday–BIRD
——[|]——
Scrambled, Not Fried 
Lovely poem I especially love the image that comes from the lines:
“transcribing soft breezes
accompanied only by the rising
pre-dawn birdsong.”