The Bird Feeder's Empty

Day breaks,

the moon stiffens

akward in the sky,

as the squirrels steal

the fattest seeds

the juiciest fruit,

from the birds

who go hungry

and light.

-

The seeds have gone

long past midnight,

when birds

and squirrels

alike,

sleep in their dens

and dream

nonhuman dreams.

-

I watch the moon

stretching with life,

dumb as the sun,

letting light pass

until it's time to feed

the beasts

again.

-

I pour into the feeder

my hopes

for the poor creatures

the ones who miss out

on the night's feeding

until the top of the metal

is touched

by seeds and dried berries

and the animals

come out

again.

-

I stand,

a statue in our garden

and wait.

The creatures sniff at the bag

and prode my gait,

but,

I will not pour the feed again,

until the daylight breaks

and the beasts

turn hungry

again.