Feeder

A month ago or so I installed

a wooden box in my yard

which I fill with tidbits

for the native population to enjoy.

Some mornings I have spied them

out my window pausing at the feeder:

the scarlet-capped baby-jogger,

the two-wheeled yellow-back,

the grey-headed slow-walker,

the elusive weedy sprinter,

a double-leashed Westie-walker. 

I am nervous each week when I refill the box

aware that I am being read in this intimate way

by those who happen by, or seek me out.

I suppose I realized the risk it was

to install this tiny window into myself

open not only to strangers, but to neighbors

who know my name, to friends

who know more than my name,

to family who think they know

everything about me.

How privileged I am to catch a glimpse

of those who hesitate for a moment,

pecking at my meager fare, offered in love,

with no expectations.

Andrine de la Rocha

posted 10/6/2010