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.
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