The Bird Camera


The bird camera rests on a ledge of the back fence,

Looking constantly with its white eye

Upon the living drama staged on the patio table.

I have put feed in a white tray.

Birds—mainly sparrows—come to eat.

When they move, the camera’s eye

Freezes their image

In its mysterious plastic housing.


I am contented with sparrows,

Humble and abundant.

I welcome mourning doves, blackbirds,

Cardinals, cowbirds, brown thrashers—

Indeed, I try to enter into the spirit of St. Francis,

Seeing this camera and these birds

As a humbling and abundant gift

Bestowed upon me without question

Of need or merit. 


--May 20, 2013