stuffing
the feeder
that swung on the pole
with seed.
they came.
they flew in on rapid
wings.
birds of every color.
some cautious
lingering on branches,
or the fence
until the large birds
would leave.
but they wore me out.
the chore of it all.
another bag,
another day.
i quit,
taking the pole down.
the hunger
of the world is unquenchable,
how hard it must
be for God to answer
so many prayers.
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