The Feeder



The doves come first

pecking carefully at the seed

they mine the ground

to find the golden seeds

so happy with their discovery

Next come the smaller birds

the sparrows the finches

who take the smallest seeds

and are satisfied with

whatever they can find

Later come the haughty Grackles

black overlords

who parade like peacocks

as if they owned the yard

their black bills sharp

as pirate knives

Then come the squirrels

whose acrobatic acts amaze

they hang from the feeder

upside down

and contort themselves

into impossible positions

to steal the seed away

they laugh at us

and our efforts to dissuade

Last comes the cat

who finishes up

he does not care

one way or the other

he does not discriminate

he'll eat anything

he can get his teeth into

then licks his lips

as he walks away.


◄ The Meaning Of Christmas

Poets In Our Midst ►


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kJ Walker

Thu 27th Dec 2018 09:12

I spend hours watching my feeder (better than owt on the telly). I don't even mind the squirrels, but cats, now they're a different kettle of fish. I'm always chasing them off.
we don't get Grackles here (to be honest I'd never heard of them) I suppose our equivalent is magpies.

Cheers Kevin

<Deleted User> (19913)

Wed 26th Dec 2018 21:44

And such is the circle of life. Marvellously told. ?

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Wed 26th Dec 2018 16:15

Pecking order in a really good format ,D. I had to clean my squirrel proof one out - what a bleeding job that was. Have a good Xmas!


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