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Feeding The Birds by Starlight

By John I. Blair

My life is such a skein,
When others toil, I sleep,
Blocking the blinding sun
With drapes drawn tight.

And when, at night,
Ghosting around the house,
I think to fill the feeders
I’ve hung from porch and post,

I work without a lamp
Where window light is lost
In deepest shadow,
Finding my way by memory

Of how it looked at noon.
Bucket of seed in hand
I squat and fill each tube
Up to the brim,

Sensing repletion of the bin
By touch alone, my fingers
Feeling fullness;
Then hook them up again.

On darkest nights,
With only stars for watchers
And the neighbor’s woofing dog
As company, I know

This is as near as I will get
To touching birds
I can only see by day
Through dusty panes.

©2011 John I. Blair

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