Waiting

An interpretation of being anxious

The Jay rests on a sticky branch among one of the few pines in sight.
Tweetie's call to one another from their niches.
About what, I haven't a clue--
because I'm waiting;
and I don't speak tweetie.

In the distance drive the cars on 96.
They echo among the myriad of trees and rolling hills,
bouncing this way and that;
hidden far from sight
as I wait.

Sunshine brushes lightly at my legs
through the overgrown greens that bend and groan with the wind,
up where the Tweetie's are,
still calling to one another.
But I don't understand them,
because I'm waiting;
and I don't speak tweetie.

Author's Note

Would like opinions on the punctuation and whether or not the second stanza should be revised. There's something about I don't care for but can't figure out what.