The humming air conditioner

That soothed my Long Island

Garden City Park

Allergies

Changed sounds to a tweeting.

Nestled between the machinery

And the outside stucco,

A nest of birds

Found shelter

From sweltering.

Mothering her flock U

Until the babies matured.

I longed for my own

Quick maturity.

Rush to adulthood,

Meant no more attacks.

The days dragged

In my Cape Cod bedroom

I would type

My own pop song charts

To fill the sand clock.

A love of numbers

And music

That helped me

Decompose.