“Caterwaul”

Morning’s quiet stillness is pierced
a single screech at first
then an accompanying cry
then several more calling back
No nightmare though
starts this cacophony
no half-remembered dream
or lingering desperation.
This dissonance is external
this clamor not held within these four walls.

As I wake early, turning my gaze to the sun
I take a moment to quiet my thoughts
to learn how to separate myself
from the discord.