I fill feeders with sunflower seed.
I stuff suite into its holders.
I wait.

Surreptitiously,
cardinals, chick-a-dees, woodpeckers and wrens
and then squirrels searching for droppings,
sneak out to feed.
Nibble a seed here…
Peck at suite there…

Suddenly,

they flit to the branches,
scurry back to the bushes,
in a panic to hide.
Then,
they come again,
slowly,
reluctant,
as before.

I wonder at their behavior.

I am quiet.
Quite well hidden on the screen porch.
Their food will not evaporate.
Nor must they fight each other
for equal sustenence.

Why so furtive?
So skittish?

Then I factor in-
hawk.

Always
is the possibility of hawk.
And woe to those
deaf to the screech of a hunting hawk,
or blind to a winged shadow
floating across the feeding ground.

Never
does the predator
merely drift on the up-drafts.