The Rock Wren

You want the peaceful ones, ones
That stay under these lines, brick
Scattering the forest floor.

Name them, name a few of them,
The ones that amount to rocks,
That you love, that you gather

In mind, trouble in mind, rocks
And rock wren’s only kind of trouble
That you find, past your own mind.

They lie corner to corner,
Peacefully as the first sin.
Then a roadrunner walks in,

And your first thought is this bird
Will go for them, not them for it.