Small gang
of starlings
chittering out there.

Cat loafed
and listening
in here. 

She’s not moving
but head’s up. I can tell
she is on standby. For what?

In her life no bird
has ever flown in here
and she does not

go outside. Every now 
and then she charges
when one lands

on the feeder closest to 
the window and she
is foiled again. 

I don’t know 
what the starlings think
about her but they

keep coming
near the window
she keeps charging.

The cat’s now pretending
to sleep. I don’t think
the birds are pretending

to anything but I
don’t know,
of course.

Since I’m up with them
as always, I am pretending 
to be at peace with not-knowing.

Whether for hope or habit,
game or hunger, instinct  
or amusement, we all do this

every morning
we can. It’s what we do.
It’s all we do.