Half way to out to the garage
with a bag of meat for the freezer
I hear “To-whee..to-wheedledee!”
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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