Waking at 4:30 am

it's dark at 4:30 and even the birds
are not awake yet, they doze on tree branches,
dreaming of worms and ripe apples, the  young
birds flapping their wings in preparation for
fledging, some chirping in alarm, loud enough
to wake themselves up before settling back
into restless movements on small branches.
I wake at 4:30 in anticipation of missing the big
silver bird that will fly west to California, to meet
my fledged offspring, so tall and strong now,
she looks down at me and tells me that her
roommates have been instructed that if a small
version of her walks into the house, it's her mom,
yes, at 4:30 I am a small version of her, in the dark,
packing my last few things, in preparation for
a long journey.