birdman

birdman

precarious, on dawn legs, sleep

creaking like a jetty, you lean

from your kitchen window,

with that stoic determination that comes with age.

one by one, you bring in the bird feeders,

each an empty morning lantern,

taking time; filling each with care.

as the sun wheels round 7am, the birds

chatter ‘round the new seeds,

as inside, time hisses to a stop.

adjusting your chair,

you sigh into a breakfast for one.