Nothing left to day, to say
as the starlings line the wires
and chit chat and call with whistles
and clucks. People are stalking
with manic needs that never
will be satisfied. But I cannot
do a thing anymore except watch.
They think I'm demented and
maybe I am but I know what
to do and what not to do and
to not say anything. Even the
cold north wind with skin biting
teeth is my welcome guest. As
is the stray dog, the raccoon and
the crazy man who yells at night.
