Monday, February 13, 2012

point five sonnet for cavity nesters

in a park-like forest of birch and tepid water
teeming with wrigglers and three wood ducks
we hear it – the dap, tap, phap! of chips
flying through the air. it is the expansion
of a starter home for chickadees, those
apretentious residents, those consumers
of remodeling inspiration sans permits!

dinner at any moment: insects tartare.