Perched on the Edge

They were all choosing parts
deciding what role they would play.
Some evenly discussed
the pros and cons of time slots,
others argued
wanting only what they couldn’t have –
the time taken by another already set
in the certainty of privilege.

Peepers popped frequent complaints
slated for the hours between dusk and dark

Stag and doe murmured softly satisfied
with wee hours of fog and haze
slighted slightly by the agreement to share
dusk with so many.

The owl’s circular flight mirrored her
circular argument shifting between
midnight and daybreak.

Perched on the edge of discussion
sang the birds, early risers, willing
to accept the task of pulling at the morning
to lift it above the trees,
place it in front of the world.