Whistling,”Farmer In the Dell”

My backyard had an

Alfred Hitchcock meets Omar Little

Kind of groove going on

The snow sent sparrows scavenging

On my neighbor’s deck

For their morning hit of seeds and bird feed

Geese were honking and indiscriminately 

Doing their business without worry for sanitation

The whole scene was aviary chaos, busy

Then all at once

The geese looked like a biker gang hitting the road

Taking flight under duress

The sparrows fled to the woods

Hiding in the scrub, motionless

A few seconds later

A hawk flew in

His chest puffed out

He glare imposing and unworried

His presence known, his authority expressed

His interest waning

The powerful bird flew away.

The sparrows returned

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