I have been feeding the wild birds around my house for years. In the morning I watch them from my bed as I sip my tea. There is also a feeder hanging in front of my kitchen window giving entertainment as I wash dishes. It’s a meditation of sorts. There are the usual year round residents and then the migratory birds as they make their way North or South in the Spring and Fall. I never tire of watching them.
BIRD FEEDER
The Chickadee stated its presence in the branches above
“Chicka-dee-dee-dee”
“Chicka-dee-dee-dee”
Impatient
I fill the old mossy wooden feeder that hangs from a tree limb
With an abundance of shiny, black, sunflower seeds
From the bucket hanging on my arm.
The chickadee knows me
I am no stranger to the birds here
The nuthatches, jays, juncos, hummingbirds
We are neighbors, friends of sorts
They go about their business and I to mine
hanging laundry, working in the yard
As I gaze from my window
I delight in their flit and flutter about the feeder
And find peace in watching them
Losing track of time
Well worth the price
for a sack of bird seed
I loved this! This poem has such a gentle rhythm to it. Not only do we have the same taste in music, but this describes that familiar symbiosis I have when I’m feeding and watching the birds in my yard.
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Beautiful.
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