Each night I choose to freeze looking down
Under the barren Japanese Maple vacantly perusing
The gathered buffet of the dried crusted unwanted
Scraps for the apex predators of the night
The dusted and compacted muddle of dirt and grass
And bird shit succumb to the overwhelming smell
Of bagels and berries for wet nostrils and wisping tails
The echoing glass is smeared, stripping
The natural oils of my tipped up nose
Each time I smudge it against, the urge to adjust
My millions of rods and cones overcomes
The comfort of insulating fluorescents
The large muted orange mother sheltering
The curiosity of a kit’s first winter
Unaware and only on alert once the tip of my
Nail taps the window pane, we stare
We scatter away
