Scarlet Winter

A red-shafted flicker lights on the upper branch
of the apple tree over by the fence.
He fervently searches in all directions
before flying to the next branch,
nervously searches, flies to the next,
until he reaches the bird feeder
with its suet cake. I watch as he pecks,
searches, pecks. His horizontal brown black
stripes emphasizes his size. He is fluffed
against the cold, gray sky.
Finally he turns his black eye my way,
the red on his head bright
against all the brown-gray of the day.
Indifferent he stares me down
before flying out of sight.
I feel as desolate as the day
with his abandonment.



Karla Freckleton Burkhart
January 8, 2011