The Feeding Hand Poem by Susan Lacovara
The Feeding Hand
Smallest of Starlings
Come feed come refresh
I have nowhere to go
To confess
This morning
There's much of the same
The crickets they know me
By name
But he doesn't know
I wait in the wind
Listening for harmonic refrains
That play over and over
A haunting song
Far away
Come Sparrows
Come Blackbirds
Today
Keeping company with
What all flies away
Come Cardinals
Come Ravens
And Stay
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5/7/2024 10:55:06 AM # 1.0.0.1119
