Bird, by Lisa Stice
I know you see me watching you,
and still, you sit on the fence post
with me just a few feet away.
I rake the leaves and you watch,
your head turned to the side and
your eye on me the entire time.
My daughter is teaching me
to speak your language, millions
of years older than my own.
I promise to keep the feeder full
of seed and the wire holder
stocked with suet in every season.
Lisa Stice is a poet/mother/military spouse. She is the author of two full-length collections, Permanent Change of Station (Middle West Press, 2018) and Uniform (Aldrich Press, 2016), and a chapbook, Desert (Prolific Press). While it is difficult to say where home is, she currently lives in North Carolina with her husband, daughter and dog. You can learn more about her and her publications at lisastice.wordpress.com.
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply.
The Ekphrastic Review
Join us on Facebook: