Tiny blue babes at my feet
twenty days new
look me up and down
assessing without bias
not yet knowing fear, caution, wariness
hop unsteadily for cool cover under the butterfly bush
to watch and wait
for Mama to appear.
Back and forth and back and forth she bolts
a torpedo with a honing device
bearing bugs and worms
dug from beds overgrown with strawberry and watercress
to deposit into screeching maws
their language
as old as mother earth.
Short tail shaking, wings spastic
crying with displeasure
at being yet unable to soar
the heavens.
Maddened are the cats
now relegated to the basement
until two fledglings
take flight. (at At Home in Napa)
Heritage Culinary Artifacts