Their heads bobbing up and down,
Doves peck the ground,
Resembling sewing machine needles,
Eager for fallen seeds.
Squirrels climb the pole
And hang upside down,
Stretching to reach the sunflower seeds.
Little birds flutter round,
Red-headed finches, wrens, and dark-headed chick-a-dees,
Inching their way to feed,
on the variety of seeds.
But woe to the keeper
That plucks the empty shells from the ground
of the scattered seeds.