question from a wren

A little brown wren perches
on the stone wall
to ask me a question.

She cocks her head and
stares at me intently,
small dark eyes pleading.
"Chip, chip, chip,"
she spouts urgently,
but I cannot know the answer
if I don't understand the question

and flustered, she alights
and is gone
leaving me to ponder
the curious language of birds
and what a little brown wren
could possibly want from me.

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  1. I love the poem and the photo. I think the photo captures the essence of the poem nicely.