Friendly Gatherings

When it was still early morning,

Came some in curiosity and some with needs.

Ah, I like this.

Me, too.

And they shared in the bounty of the seeds.

Over the season in the sunrise,

There is friendly gatherings a-twitter.

Ah, this is life.

Some flew

When in bound some unfamiliar critter.

But even the beast from the hedgerow

Was soon accepted at the table,

Among the feathers of many color and hue.

I wish I could belong to this congregation,

But as a human I am not able.

I can only watch from a concealed view.

The wrens rush in rapid flights for their ration,

While the grackles gather about the edges.

The mourning doves, in moving pairs,

Come early and earnestly ignore

The in and out swooping sparrows.

Blue Jays and Cardinals add brightness to the gang,

And a squirrel, switching his tail,

Peels a nut to the rhythmic caws of a crow.

In the hours before the sunset,

When the seasons are turning their collars to the cold,

Oh, how I wish

I could

Sprout wings and fly south with that friendly fold.