Writing on the porch

She trembled, 

standing over me, 

scolding. 

I listened politely from my makeshift desk, 

clueless to her meaning. 

She stared a moment, 

left in a huff. 

I returned to the page. 

Back in an instant, 

more insistent, 

she shrewed, 

"Vit, vitvitvit, vitvit," 

then launched from her perch, 

dove, just missing my head, 

joined her baby 

in the nest above.