GloPoWriMo – Day 19

Bird Feeder

 

My dad’s a bird breeder

Which makes me the feeder

Not to our birds – the ones who visit us

They love the food Dad mixes – no fuss

 

So I walk out of the house every day

Not stepping too far away

The street is quiet – like a ghost town

No one would notice you in a sleeping gown

 

Sometimes I hear someone exercising on the field of my old school

Which, given the situation, is really uncool

I empty the bowl, the food on the ground

Still hearing no other sound

 

I leave in silence and head back in

Only to hear the birds’ feasting begin

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Daily Prompt: “write a poem based on a “walking archive.” From Na/GloPoWriMo