You can lay down all the money you like
on redwood gazebos, those big platform feeders;
put out the best blend of customized seed,
and he won’t show a figment of interest.
Cut up fresh fruit and array it on saucers,
crumble up corn bread and leave it for hours;
sit there stock-still, either morning or evening.
He’ll twitter from above on the wire.
But if you leave the backyard, or a portion
of it, to grow long and fill up with black crickets
and hiding grasshoppers, then spend a half hour
of afternoon mowing, he’ll come.
The moral of this tale is that happiness follows
your action, not waiting. It prefers live bait.
26 JUN 2006