
For the Birds
©1991 Susan Noyes Anderson
My sister loves to feed the birds.
They come from miles around.
She offers them a place to nest
and birdseed by the pound.
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My sister loves to feed the birds.
They come from miles around.
She offers them a place to nest
and birdseed by the pound.
Why does my mother have to say,
“Go clean your room?” It wrecks my day.
“Go clean your room!” she says to me.
“There’s clothes where carpet used to be,
and games and books on top of those,
and snacks starting to decompose!
I’m in the doctor’s waiting room.
My mom is counting sheep.
The music they play here could put
an elephant to sleep.
Don’t wake me up.
Don’t pound my door.
I need more sleep.
I need much more.
The house was resting on a slant
(perhaps a cracked foundation).
Inside a scene of chaos
and total devastation.
Of all the people
in the world
millions of guys
zillions of girls
of all the animals
there are
from Timbuktu
to Zanzibar
They tell me
that I’m getting
thinner.
“Dwindling away to
nothing”
was the phrase.
When we were young, you made me blush,
go hot and cold and turn to mush.
I still feel all these things, it’s true…
but is it menopause, or you?