The Thrasher

A
Bird
Flew
Into
The
Window
With
A
Thwack,
Fell
Back,
Stood
On
The
Porch
And
Rested.
I’ve
Seen
Him
In
The
Yard
This
Week,
Gray
Breasted,
Decurved
Beak.
He
Hit
The
Glass
Hard,
Baffled
By
The
Sun.
He’s
Not
The
Only
One.
I Myself
Have
Been
Dazzled
By
A
Glittering
Reflection,
And
Flown
Quite
The
Wrong
Direction.