A wagtail waking

Even out in the icy, fenced sun,
I was having an imagined conversation
too long,
too long
in my head.

Stutter-chirp sudden,
from the left,
a pied wagtail flew in, dipthong —
and landed on them;
the unsaid, unspooling words;
aquiver under his perch.
When he bobbed again,
they misted
and
dispersed.

I remembered the therapist, then
in that room with the loud clock
saying
listen —
there is also a bird.