Cardinal
Tub of birdseed in the crook of my arm,
the bite of an April morning against my shins.
Into the feeder I scooped sunflower seed
while from the trees
you chirped your cardinal’s chip.
I went inside, my work done, and then
you came. I knew you would.
The orange cone of your beak
panning the feeder tray for gold.
[more to come!]
writer's note
The cardinal was the first visitor to my bird feeder (I'd had it up for four months before then). I read somewhere that cardinals generally don't stray more than a couple miles from where they are born. I don't know if that's true or not, but I choose to think that the cardinals who visit my birdfeeder live in my neighborhood year-round, just like I do.
Thumbnail: Cardinal grosbeak, from "Birds of America" trade card series, issued by Allen & Ginter cigarettes, 1888.