The feeder hangs swaying,
no avian fellows alighting.
(males are the brightest; why?)
I wait and watch--they've flown I wonder where--for food?
Will their shimmering yellow return,
a harbinger of the lightening days ahead?
Indeed, one by one, I know they'll come
hungry again (still) as they've done
year after year finding food,
flying beauty, feeding me with 
their golden arrival.


  1. This made me smile, as watching the birds always does!


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