White-Eye

In the first daylight one slender frond trembles
and without seeing you I know you are there
small foreigner to any word for you
no more foreign than I am in my own words
not making a sound now to call or answer
without hearing your voice I know who you are
there she comes now like a shadow in a whir of wings
before there are shadows and she calls in flight
one note and you answer with its other side
the long frond trembles again and you are gone
together with that one note between you
in a language I remember but do not know