DECEMBER BREAKFAST

One red-bellied woodpecker swinging on the suet,

a splash of colors, not shy at all, as if you can hide

your true nature behind a rainbow palette. I’ll try

with some bright zinnia lipstick, and count

six red cardinals in the glistening snow strutting

around without a worry in this world. 

I watch them through a dark blue 

cloud for a second not minding the fat

squirrel chasing them across the stream.

They’ll be back soon. Four ring doves

two couples always together and paired

ignore the squirrel or click their beaks at him

so he stays on the other side of the large stone

by the bird feeder. In time for Thanksgiving, 

eight rats moved in under that black stone

and helped themselves from my compost heap.

Both fascinated and disgusted by their quick

bodies and thieving ways. Highway robbery!

I mourned and didn’t mourn when the red tailed

hawk got them and got them good. Clean murder

under my fragile little lilac bush. 

PUBLISHED IN THE WORCESTER REVIEW, VOL. 44