Ann Weil
Outside My Kitchen Window
Outside my kitchen window,
Just this side of the naked oaks,
My feeders rock in the whisper breezes
Their bounty laid for winter guests.
I used to cook for the children.
Now I feed the birds.
A tufted-titmouse is first to arrive,
Elegant gray topcoat accessorized
By an edgy mohawk.
He’s curious to see what the Lunch Specials will be.
Soon after come the dancing chickadees
So dapper in their black berets
Their heads cocked wondering what delicacies await.
A flash of purple heralds the house finches
Brilliant against snow laden pines.
They love the black oil sunflower seed,
But are momentarily displaced by
The resident diva,
A flashy, pushy, red-bellied woodpecker.
Not to be outshone, a magnificent jay and his missus
Fly in, and quite the melee ensues!
Is it any wonder that I stand transfixed
At this all-star revue?
Suds fill the sink until the water overflows.
I wash the dishes and watch the feast.
Ann Weil is a former teacher, professor, and scholarly author, still has a few things to say. Her work takes inspiration from both the ordinary and extraordinary; her first publication of poetry will appear February 28, 2020 in Amethyst Review.
Outside my kitchen window,
Just this side of the naked oaks,
My feeders rock in the whisper breezes
Their bounty laid for winter guests.
I used to cook for the children.
Now I feed the birds.
A tufted-titmouse is first to arrive,
Elegant gray topcoat accessorized
By an edgy mohawk.
He’s curious to see what the Lunch Specials will be.
Soon after come the dancing chickadees
So dapper in their black berets
Their heads cocked wondering what delicacies await.
A flash of purple heralds the house finches
Brilliant against snow laden pines.
They love the black oil sunflower seed,
But are momentarily displaced by
The resident diva,
A flashy, pushy, red-bellied woodpecker.
Not to be outshone, a magnificent jay and his missus
Fly in, and quite the melee ensues!
Is it any wonder that I stand transfixed
At this all-star revue?
Suds fill the sink until the water overflows.
I wash the dishes and watch the feast.
Ann Weil is a former teacher, professor, and scholarly author, still has a few things to say. Her work takes inspiration from both the ordinary and extraordinary; her first publication of poetry will appear February 28, 2020 in Amethyst Review.