Restless

I have just fed the
oblivious birds in

appreciation of their
ebullient singsong

and despite their
dumb dawn chorus

waking us. With
spring on the cusp

they should be
self-surviving

but this is a treat
of thank you –

and feed still in
the bag.

I might even give
the pigeons a pass

with their still shitting on
the conservatory’s see-through

ceiling each day,
because I have one.

Maybe it’s just
old wives and

folklore or a
Hitchcock/similar film,

perhaps even
David Attenborough,

but I thought there’d be
more foreboding,

more intuitive rustling
and restlessness

like the rest of us.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s