His bold proclamation of chip, chip, chip
potpourri against the honking and the quack
background tilts my head, intrigued.
Admiring that flash jacket, flames
against inky black. He fooled me.
I made up casseroles and offered them
to this lonely male, spreading my artful
mix of seeds on golden turf to tempt.
And here’s a turn-up for the book,
his mate delayed, newly arrived
to renew their union.
He’s scouted the neighborhood, he knows
which cattails dance under a bird’s precise
weight. And she’s like an extra
in his show, brown and speckled
weaving through his shadows
as they prepare the world
for the new generation.