The bird feeder is heavy

It’s full of seed

The birds show no worry

There’s just no need

For, when the bird feeder

Finally runs dry

After a song or two

Away the birds fly

To be fed by Mother

Nature’s nourishing hand

Her berries and seeds

Served wherever they land

Urban or rural

The ‘burbs, and back again

Fly the Chickadees,

Jays and Carolina Wren

Abundantly fed

By Mother and men