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Bagel Eaters

St. Patrick's Day Bagel

Beyond the red brick patio
where small sand mounds in crevices
suggest, ant colonies,
shortly, in droves, will abound.

I tossed a remnant of a toasted bagel,
in the quietude of late morning mist,
while in my vision's field,
the nosy neighbour was not around.

The grass emerging spring green,
shrubbery not trimmed, trees in promise,
some bare, others in bud, new leafs,
not sprayed growth, landscaper free.

Flower pots unfilled, soil not turned.
Purchasing, planting... awaiting May,
one bird hopped bravely,
couldn't, wouldn't, abide her,
keep her, any other way.

Despite "Peterson First Guides,"
"Stokes Field Guide,"
"North American Identification,"
we were mystified, no nomenclature,
colouration, size, at all.

Each aviary creature called another,
pecked knowingly, a bite, flew away.

Our cat Kahlua, came to watch the scene,
through the pane glass door.
A sudden sound in our household,
She spun skittishly, did not stay.

April 2002

Author: Roy Schoenberg - Bay Shore, New York, USA

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