Four sparrows hop upon the concrete
dancing a feast upon my porch,
with snatches at tiny seeds fallen
from the feeder swinging overhead.
Sometimes blue-black suited crows,
or matronly pigeons in afternoon grays,
chase them from their banquet.
A small red headed, red breasted tree bark brown visitor
throws more food upon the ground
in search of the perfect seed.
I watch from the kitchen table,
with my feast of peanut butter toast
halfway between my plate and digestion.
Also from May 2002.