January

Chickadee’s back!

She perches outside the kitchen window

Watches me wash dishes,

Cocks her head and calls out,

We’re hungry, where’s the seed?

Have you forgotten to what you agreed?

I’m surprised to see her,

Winter’s been a long time coming,

She only visits when it’s cold:

The blustery rosy reddening cheek biting

Finger numbing kind,

Which only arrived today mind!

 

She joins her flock,

Black headed, white breasted,

They look like stuffed felt toys

Come alive,

Fluffy balls tossed by no child’s hand,

Moved by the wind moving over land.

 

Chickadee’s back, she hops outside,

Pecks at the kitchen window,

I fill a bucket with millet, amaranth, thistle

Wrap my shoulders in a woolen shawl

Step out the door, scatter seed and grain all around

In a circle on the frozen ground.

 

A gust of wind brings the flock over

They pick at morsels, feast together

Hopping by my feet

Feathers orbiting

Until bellies full they fly away

Disappearing for the day.

 

I return to the dishes

Warm stiff fingers with hot water

Steam rising from the sink

I hear pecking at the foggy window

Where Chickadee’s back scratching into the hazy pane

t.h.a.n.k. y.o.u.