Goose, Raven and Cardinal
Why did the goose fly when I rode by?
Why didn’t it stay and wave “hi” with one
white wing instead of flapping both fearfully?
Why did the raven stand its ground
upon my return—black feathers unruffled,
never batting a dark and piercing eye?
And then the cherry red cardinal—when,
later, I stepped outside to do some wash—
seemed to want to hide in the brush.
Don’t the birds recognize a vegetarian
when they see one? Don’t they know:
the only shot I want at them is with a camera?