Image by Maurits Bausenhart/Unsplash, Public Domain Dedication (CC0).
Bird Feeder
Approaching seventy, she learns to live,
at last. She realizes she has not
accomplished half of what she struggled for,
that she surrendered too many battles
and seldom celebrated those she won.
Approaching seventy, she learns to live
without ambition: a calm lake face, not
a train bound for success and glory. For
the first time, she relaxes her hands on the
controls, leans back to watch the coming end.
Asked, she’d tell you her life is made out of
the things she didn’t do, as much as the
things she did do. Did she sing a love song?
Approaching seventy, she learns to live
without wanting much more than the light in
the catbird window seat where, watching the
voracious fist-sized tweets, she hums along.
“Bird Feeder” was published in The Golden Shovel Anthology: New Poems Honoring Gwendolyn Brooks, ed. Peter Kahn, Ravi Shankar, and Patricia Smith. (Fayetteville: University of Arkansas Press, 2017). Used with permission of the poet.
This poem was originally read in the On Being episode “Poetry From the On Being Gathering.” Listen to Marilyn Nelson’s On Being interview, “Communal Pondering in a Noisy World.”
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