Already accustomed to the procedure, <br />it isn't long till one <br />flutters down from the sky to clutch <br />the edge of my hand; <br /> <br />a moment more to twitch and eye <br />the seed in my palm, select <br />two or three, and flit away— <br /> <br />—such delicate talons! <br /> <br />the sensation lingers, engendering <br />a tenuous ache <br />—a millet of love.<br /><br />Larry Kimmel<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/feeding-chickadees-in-winter/
