Poetry Friday

I spent the morning sitting in a sunny spot watching birds at my feeder. Hence this poem. Reading it again now after many years, weepy, remembering being so moved even as a 20 year old kid whose main worry was where the keg at. Before sickness and aging elders became my wheelhouse. I can draw a straight line between this poem and my life as a nurse. I got there, eventually.Letters from a FatherMona Van Duyn, 1921 - 2004IUlcerated tooth keeps me awake, there issuch pain, would have to go to the hospital to haveit pulled or would bleed to death from the blood thinners,but can’t leave Mother, she falls and forgets her salveand her tranquilizers, her ankles swell so and her bowelsare so bad, she almost had a stoppage and sometimeswhat she passes is green as grass.  There are big holesin my thigh where my leg brace buckles the size of dimes.My head pounds from the high pressure.  It is awfulnot to be able to get out, and I fell in the bathroomand the girl could hardly get me up at all.Sure thought my back was broken, it will be next time.Prostate is bad and heart has given out,feel bloated after supper. Have made my peacebecause am just plain done for and have no doubtthat the Lord will come any day with my release.You say you enjoy your feeder, I don’t see whyyou want to spend good money on grain for birdsand you say you have a hundred sparrows, I’d buypoison and get rid of their diseases and turds.IIWe enjoyed your visit, it was nice of you to bringthe feeder but a terrible waste of your moneyfor that big bag of feed since we won’t be livingmore than a few weeks long.  We can seethem good from where we sit, big ones and little onesbut you know when I farmed I used to like to huntand we had many a good meal from pigeonsand quail and pheasant but these birds won’tbe good for nothing and are dirty to have so nearthe house.  Mother likes the redbirds though.My bad knee is so sore and I can’t hardly hearand Mother says she is hoarse from yelling but I knowit’s too late for a hearing aid.  I belch up all the timeand have a sour mouth and of course with my heartit’s no use to go to a doctor.  Mother is the same.Has a scab she thinks is going to turn to a wart.IIIThe birds are eating and fighting, Ha! Ha!  All shapesand colors and sizes coming out of our woodsbut we don’t know what they are.  Your Mother hopesyou can send us a kind of book that tells about birds.There is one the folks called snowbirds, they eat on the ground,we had the girl sprinkle extra there, but say,they eat something awful.  I sent the girl to townto buy some more feed, she had to go anyway.IVAlmost called you on the telephonebut it costs so much to call thought better write.Say, the funniest thing is happening, oneday we had so many birds and they fightand get excited at their feed you knowand it’s really something to watch and two or threeflew right at us and crashed into our windowand bang, poor little things knocked themselves silly.They come to after while on the ground and flew away.And they been doing that.  We felt awfuland didn’t know what to do but the other daya lady from our Church drove out to calland a little bird knocked itself out while she satand she bought it in her hands right into the house,it looked like dead.  It had a kind of hatof feathers sticking up on its head, kind of roseor pinky color, don’t know what it was,and I petted it and it come to life right therein her hands and she took it out and it flew.  She saysthey think the window is the sky on a fairday, she feeds birds too but hasn’t gotso many.  She says to hang strips of aluminum foilin the window so we’ll do that.  She raved aboutour birds.  P.S. The book just come in the mail.VSay, that book is sure good, I studyin it every day and enjoy our birds.Some of them I can’t identifyfor sure, I guess they’re females, the Latin wordsI just skip over.  Bet you’d never guessthe sparrow I’ve got here, House Sparrow you wrote,but I have Fox Sparrows, Song Sparrows, Vesper Sparrows,Pine Woods and Tree and Chipping and White Throatand White Crowned Sparrows.  I have six Cardinals,three pairs, they come at early morning and night,the males at the feeder and on the ground the females.Juncos, maybe 25, they fightfor the ground, that’s what they used to call snowbirds.  I missthe Bluebirds since the weather warmed. Their breastis the color of a good ripe muskmelon.  Tufted Titmouseis sort of blue with a little tiny crest.And I have Flicker and Red-Bellied and Red-Headed Woodpeckers, you would die laughingto see Red-Bellied, he hangs on with his headflat on the board, his tail braced up under,wing out.  And Dickcissel and Ruby Crowned Kingletand Nuthatch stands on his head and Veery on topthe color of a bird dog and Hermit Thrush with spoton breast, Blue Jay so funny, he will hopright on the backs of the other birds to get the grain.We bought some sunflower seeds just for him.And Purple Finch I bet you never seen,color of a watermelon, sits on the rimof the feeder with his streaky wife, and the squirrels,you know, they are cute too, they sit talland eat with their little hands, they eat bucketfuls.I pulled my own tooth, it didn’t bleed at all.VIIt’s sure a surprise how well Mother is doing,she forgets her laxative but bowels move fine.Now that windows are open she says our birds singall day.  The girl took a Book of Knowledge on loanfrom the library and I am reading upon the habits of birds, did you know some males have threewives, some migrate some don’t.  I am going to keepfeeding all spring, maybe summer, you can seethey expect it.  Will need thistle seed for Goldfinch and PineSiskin next winter.  Some folks are going to come see usfrom Church, some bird watchers, pretty soon.They have birds in town but nothing to equal this.So the world woos its children back for an evening kiss.