White breasted nuthatch on the window screen
it’s creamy underbelly inches from my face;
inside my head sister natures clash -
“Scientific opportunity!” Martha insists,
“Note the brown speckling around the vent
not visible when the specimen is observed
foraging for insects on it’s native pine.”
“Oh, hush!” Mary cries, breathless in wonder
at the fearless nearness of a small wild soul.
The nuthatch tilts it’s head and peers at me
peers at the bug on my side of the wire.
