We have a feeder for birds.


It doubles as dinner for squirrels.


Although we try to limit the clients


To creatures with feathers


by measures, from baffles


 to pivots and pulleys


And wren-house swivels,


To heights fantastic for leaping,


The squirrels prevail,


And shake their proud tails


As their one-ounce brain, 


With might and main,


Outdoes the human with his,


Which we hope is bigger


By some.  Now we just watch,


And exclaim with delight


When a squirrel descends 


A rope from the heights,
 

Or leaps from below.


That’s squirrels––Now birds:


Somewhere behind


A cardinal


Or Texas Mocker


Or woodpecker,
Is a sparrow below 


And a dove above.


Blue jays have color


And spew the seeds far


And grackles make “music,

”
But mostly they dine


Around on the ground.


An inverted lid


on the basket below


Catches seeds

that the
Squirrels and Jays


Rake down.


There’s an obvious collusion


twixt the critters above


and their buddies below,


As they dine in grateful profusion.
                              

––Dixon W. Coulbourn