I heard the birds whispering outside my window,
Then signalling loudly, “Something is wrong.”
The empty cages that held their seeds
Were screaming, “Our keeper is gone.”
The backyard aviary, once filled with food,
Was missing something to eat.
The feeders long swung from winter branches
Devoid of their usual treat
Of Nyjer seeds and sunflower seeds
And other pellets of food.
Disappointed, they left, and I was bereft
And searched to lighten my mood.
After reaching them down and washing them out,
I searched for the sacks of grain.
Filling them up and hanging them high
Seemed to lessen my heartbroken pain
Of remembering his trudging knee-deep in snow
Slogging with love, purpose, and care
To reach the swinging baskets of wire
And refill them, replacing the air.
Cardinal and Blue Jay and Scarlet Finch
Joined Nuthatch and Pigeon and Dove.
They all returned to welcoming feed,
Provided, by proxy, with love.
