Thursday, January 3, 2013

Remaining Mysteries

Half way to out to the garage 
with a bag of meat for the freezer 
I hear “!” 
Someone new coming to the feeder?
Kinking my neck, squinting through 
binoculars gets me a few views, 
creamy bellies on high branches 
thick bills and a brush of amber or 
russet on cocked head-top
not enough for identification
and they never do come down 
for seed.  Write them off as  
“Mystery bird. Passing through.” 
and go put the meat away.

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