Midway, I woke up,
slid open a window.

It had been raining;
a tree was growing.

Through screen, blinds,
and the tree behind,

a bird flew in
under my eyes.

The bird flying in,
bird singing in the tree,

the tree flying in,
scary. I thought the blinds

and screen
could protect me,

forgot smell, feel: the air
was the bird

in the tree flying in.
The bird singing.

I opened my eyes, gray
glowering lines.