I feed birds, enjoy,
In Return, returns of
Flashing scarlets, squawking
blues, bully grackles, the doves…

Alternate mornings I take the moment
it takes to fill feeders, spread seed,
wait for joy.

This morning, damn neighbors
damn black cat squat,
crouched behind, hidden, watching,
waiting for feathers, meat.

Now, cat’s got to eat.
Bird’s got to eat.
Must I choose?
Chase the cat away?
Let him stay to slay
A bully grackle (admittably,
a minimal loss, grackles are
nobodys friend)?

Cat’s got to eat
Bird’s got to eat
But, everyone takes their chances
and nobody pays the feeder.

So, I walked from the window,
went on my way and on
tomorrows curious morning find
empty feeders, seed shells
or
broken bird bones, blood, spleen.

It’s no concern of mine.
I step back from
Godly moments
I feed birds,
wait for joy
and am accomplice to
nothing.