Chickadee

I hung the bird feeder on a post outside the kitchen window
where I could stand, washing dishes, and see it.
Thought happily of the blue jays, cardinals and chickadees I would
admire.
A year later the birds came.

I had almost forgotten,
sitting having cereal, staring at nothing out the back door–
a chickadee.
I yelled.

How many of these things have I missed
because I could never wait that long?
A decade ago, especially two,
that feeder would have been removed,
or more likely,
I wouldn’t live at this house anymore,
and would have left it hanging,
forgotten.
Someone else would have seen the birds.

Maybe other people enjoyed the things I
couldn’t wait around for.
New women washing dishes.
Chickadees will sing for anybody.

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