I strewn seed on the ground
for the birds.
It must be junco food
because that's all I seem to attract.
I don't recall reading that
on the bag - JUNCO SEED.
I watch for a time -
little birds and little beaks pecking
at the ground in a feeding frenzy.
One junco works itself into
such a state that it crashes
into the window I'm peering out
but manages to fly away unscathed.
I'm told that if a bird gets stunned
and falls to the ground,
you're to grab it immediately
and warm it until it revives
or it may die.
So says Iakona.
I never question
Iakona when it comes to
our feathered friends.
It's odd to think of Death
when watching birds feed,
unless one crashes into your window
and you don't grab it and warm it.
But I do.
So many souls in such
a short time.
So many that I have
grown weary of it.
Death.
When answering its cue,
like the passing of the sun and moon,
Death comes swiftly,
and is non-discriminating.
Why even the wallflowers
will get their chance
to join the parade
of the Danse Macabre.
A strange lot indeed -
like carnies but a bit
more premeditated
(and very debonair) -
one of the macabers,
as is their custom,
turns and waves goodbye
while their procession departs.
What pleasantries!
As if to say, "See you later!"
I can hardly wait.
And the world keeps spinning.
And the paraders keep marching.
And people I know keep dying.
And the juncos keep coming.
I don't want to have to revive any.
Comments