Clean Hands

Clean Hands 

When the sun sets 

on our green mountain, 

the sky seems white, 

          windy, 

     then a darker blue. 

No flies—no mosquitoes

Have you seen this tiny 

bird at dusk behind our 

          flower shop? 

What can this, yellow, 

orange, grey pipsqueak 

eat if night's insects 

     don't fly, too? 

     I have clean hands, 

          but no birdseed.