CARDINALS

by John L. Stanizzi

for Carol

I had seen them in the tree,

and heard they mate for life,

so I hung a bird feeder

and waited.

By the third day,

sparrows and purple finches

hovered and jockeyed

like a swarm of bees

fighting over one flower.

So I hung another feeder,

but the squabbling continued

and the seed spilled

like a shower

of tiny meteors

onto the ground

where starlings

had congregated,

and blue jays,

annoyed at the world,

disrupted everyone

except the mourning doves,

who ambled around

like plump old women

poking for the firmest

head of lettuce.

Then early one evening

they came,

the only ones--

she stood

on the periphery

of the small galaxy of seed;

he hopped

among the nuggets,

calmly chose

one seed at a time,

carried it to her,

placed it in her beak;

she, head tilted,

accepted it.

Then they fluffed,

hopped together,

did it all over again.

And filled with love,

I phoned to tell you,

over and over,

about each time

he celebrated

being there,

all alone,

with her.