A Morning in Summer

.
.
A bright red bird
did me the honor
of landing on my tree.
He flew quickly.
I couldn't expect the honor
to last too long.
.
The open-hearted pundits
say this is a generous country.
I wonder how
true that is.
The face of my neighbor
is a blank, except for
a half-hearted greeting.
.
Beyond this peaceful street,
how much is
well fed and clean?
How many of the secret
people found
a way to temper
longing?