In the crisp morning air

In the crisp morning air of December,

The specifics of which have already fled,
As if avoiding the inevitable revision,
A pair of birds met
At the window feeder.

The cardinal, red and boisterous,

Used to bullying wren and finch alike,
Held tightly in a flurry of feathers,
Incredulous of the pure audacity

Of the red-bellied woodpecker

Who had arrived headlong
All a-clunk into the swaying feeder,

Oblivious of its king.

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