The Chickadee

The Chickadee

Pecked between the bricks

Unthreatened by my approach

Slow to move,

As locals are

Some sip coffee

Others loll to greet the blue

Across the bay and all above

Slow, as locals are

Even drifters,

Gulls or hulls pulling

At their ties against

The tides

Take their time

There’s no rush

Don’t push

Just hold my hand

Slow, as locals are

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