Cracks

The broken lock, the eaves—
anything can get in—

but what would they want here
but to get out again—

trapped and flapping in fear
or anger or hunger or pain

toward some dumb warmth and this
busily useless brain?

Anything can get in—
the wind, a bad idea—

a good idea—but what
is there to feed it here?

Over the cores and seeds
the squirrels crouch and chuff—

they crack the feeder pane—
they chew the wood like grass—

Enough! You've had enough!
One nuthatch kibitzes—

(nuthatch—what a name!)
the titmouse knocks and knocks—

again it knocks and knocks—
one seed against the frame.

Jennifer Clarvoe
Invisible Tender
1999 Poets Out Loud Prize
Fordham University Press

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