The chickadees are arguing
using their mad voices
to fight over the millet
and sunflowers–
Here’s a sweet ‘chirp’, there’s
an insistent, “cuh, cuh, cuh”
and another voice–“chick-a-dee, dee, dee.”
It’s a Bird Boardroom Brawl,
voices of different timbres and tempo
arguing about what’s on the menu.
They sound as if they’re starving,
staking out their claim to dinner
like it’s their last meal.
Then zoom! they’re off
to another branch,
a new hiding place
as evening winds down,
and I wonder
did their mother send them
all to bed without supper
because they wouldn’t stop fighting?
Ahhhh, they may never
get that millet meal until morning
after all.
~~~~~
Photo: (very small) chickadee on the horizontal piece of wood
You've made me want to get a bird feeder!
Beth, reading this out loud as I wrote it was half the fun.
Very clever 🙂 I read your poem out loud and smiled as I expressed the chickadee dialogue.
Ha. Mothers are like that, no matter what the species.
Thank you, Marilyn. It was fun to write (and say out loud…).
Mary, my favorites to watch are the hummingbirds. I can't possibly keep my eyes on them….
Yes, I think all the moms God made–people or animal–are wired the same :-)Thanks for reading, Bri.
I like the last stanza, and its alliteration, especially.
It is really so interesting to try to figure out what is going on in the mind of birds, isn't it? They are always so busy though, so they probably don't spend a lot of time thinking. Smiles.
ha. perhaps the mother did…and perhaps all mother are the same…as the kids…across species…ha its fun to watch them though