A White-Rumped Snowfinch
(Montifringilla Taczanowskii to be precise)
from a fat mother,
from the peak of Beaver Lake’s juniper tree,
where seeds arrive each night at supper
(the depression never struck our nest!)
and from a fine education--
I’ve learned my ways around this town,
I’ve learned the hedges where the crows cackle
By the school, on the mountain roads.
I seek a regular, weekend fling,
No titles, just feelings.
Preferably females two years or older,
Fellow finches or bluebirds will do.
Let us dine on seasoned larva,
Sunflowers from the Biltmore fields.
I will peck your cheek,
You shall return the favor gratefully.
Let us seize breeding season
Before the flocks flock southward.
You know where to find me.