ornithology
In our first summer
I started feeding birds –
you'll have to feed
all year round,
our neighbor said,
or they’ll die in winter
I thought
I was doing them
a favor.
Now they congregate
in the crisp autumn air
and wait like worshippers
for me to fill the feeder
while the wild geese
fly overhead
I wonder
if both instincts
are true.
Peace,
Milton
P. S. -- You can check out other poems at Writer's Island.
9 comments:
I REALLY like this one, Milton. It's beautiful and seasonal and has a clear meaning, and yet deeper one. Perfect.
Oh wow - this is a gorgeous poem! Thank you so much for sharing it with us over at Writers Island. :)
I've often wondered about that - you said it well! Enjoyed!
Lovely poem! A great contribution to our island!
Great poem -- beautiful in its simplicity. I especially loved the phrase "wait like worshippers". Very evocative.
really great poem.
nice to meet you.
I have a few crows "waiting like a worshipper" each morning.
I enjoyed this..:D
wonderful writing... moving me to many levels... my bird feeder is empty... and the leaves have begun to fall... your words will peer over my shoulder... thank you.
Oh, I do like this one.
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