birdfeeder
ergo
Out
the
back
deck
for
a
smoke
,
I
notice
a
mourning
dove
that
didn't
fly
away
.
Made
tame
by
some
malady,
it
sits
quietly
under
the
feeder,
feathers
all
puffed
out
against
the
chilly
drizzle
that
mortifies
us
both
.
I
try
not
to
stare
,
not
wanting
to
cause
an
uneasiness,
but
there
is
no
apparent
fear
. "
Will
you
live
tonight
?"
A
rude
question
but
no
offense
taken
.
Here
,
now
,
I
am
warm
and
dry
.
When
I
stand
up
from
Blather
will
it
still
be
perched
there
?..............No
100512
...
syringe
The
bird
was
probably
close
to
death
,
then
the
cigarette
smoke
pushed
it
over
the
edge
.
100522
what's it to you?
who
go
blather
from