Dave Bonta's poem reads like a few notes jotted down while sitting outside early in the day. Nothing dramatic happens. The speaker simply pays attention: the cool, clear air with an unglamorous whiff of sewage, two birds singing back and forth, a chipmunk scolding from a patch of sun, and two woodpeckers making different kinds of noise.
What stands out is the gentle humor. The speaker notices that the bunting and the warbler have the same syllable count, as if the birds were trading verses. The pileated woodpeckers "agree to disagree," which treats them like a pair of old companions. Even the smell of sewage is mentioned plainly, without fuss, which keeps the scene honest rather than postcard-pretty.
The mood is relaxed and content. The final stanza sets the speaker's only plan: wait until the sun clears the maple, then get breakfast. There's no hurry, and the morning seems to be enough.