At the Feeder Karin Johannesson
Karin Johannesson

There are weeds growing beneath the feeder

   The collateral damage of kindness

One feeds birds not for their good manners

   but for the joy of seeing them play

Daily the storehouse is refreshed with seed

   Their mission: to devour & scatter

      ‘Consider the lilies of the field’

      ‘Consider the birds of the air’

Daily the least in the kingdom come to feast

   on fare they neither sow nor reap

      ‘What wastrels!’ says the neighbor

      ‘What treasures!’ I would answer

For is it not just so that we come to the table

   of grace? Mendicants & profligates!

                        “Never regret. If it’s good, it’s wonderful.

                         If it’s bad, it’s experience.”

                                                       ~ Eleanor Hibbert


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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One Response to At the Feeder

  1. we keep ours empty, unfortunately, to avoid attracting bears


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