Goldfinch at the feeder
finding all they need.
Fluffing out their feathers
cracking open seeds.
Perching on a dowel,
huddling from the wind
they fly to my citrus tree
making branches bend.
Along comes a purple finch,
the feeder has run out.
No more seed for the birds,
they flutter all about.
I'm thinking of dropping that last stanza. What do you think? Happy Saturday. Today is a great day for staying inside and watching the birds outside. What birds are in your part of the world? Can you write a short poem about a bird you see? Have fun observing.
I would leave it - that's your story, there, otherwise it feels more like a scenario. I love the last stanza, actually!
ReplyDeleteThanks for the support, Michelle.
DeleteI like it, but maybe just refer back to that purple finch, saying "he flutters all about" because he was too late? I love when the finches arrive here, but have to wait. Thanks for sharing them with us, Joy!
ReplyDeleteThanks Linda, for the great suggestion.
ReplyDelete