Some Avian Advice
You need to see this bird
pummel my glass front door.
How he survives the self-assault, I don’t
know. Or even if he will. I’ve read
about those bird kamikaze mishaps.
He’s his own bird, shall we say,
determined to build a nest,
only here on my front door,
when the perfect tree is everywhere around.
Here he comes, every 10 minutes.
Flying head starts, his pane-shaking
landing, then crashing to the ground.
Followed by a mournful moment
sitting on the doorknob, staring
into the cavern of my double doors.
Four days of it now, and he keeps at it.
Is he the same bird as last year?
Or the heir apparent? Maybe the eldest
of last year’s litter? Or the year before?
Not my first go-round with this dynasty.
I’m not a bird person, with intricate
knowledge of avian lifespans
and predilections. But he is not welcome.
That I know, despite what it says about me.
I’ve locked the door, removed the wreath,
any trace of good cheer. I sit in the window,
trying to catch his eye. Tell him, this is not
going to work. He flies away when he sees
me, only to return within the hour. And stress
sit on the handle. Mark it with his droppings.
Last year, he and his chirpy bird family
had our front entryway all to themselves.
Use the back door, I’d scream at visitors,
or Come in through the garage. Don’t
scare the birds. They’re just
learning to fly. You’re making the mother
mad. It’s time for them to eat. All my
heartfelt projections, how the pesky critters
must feel, living precariously perched
on a yellow-pink plastic flotilla. What
am I not understanding here, I ask him.
Didn’t your daddy teach you:
sometime, you
know, you need to think outside the wreath?
This poem is Maryanne Hannan’s fourth to be published in Slant. She is the author of Rocking Like It’s All Intermezzo: 21st Century Psalm Responsorials (Resource Publications, 2019) and has published poems widely in other journals, including Rattle, Gargoyle, Cider Press Review. Several of her poems have also been included in anthologies, most recently The Best of Kindness (Origami Poems Project, 2017). A retired Latin teacher, she lives in upstate New York. You can read more about her at Maryanne Hannan (mhannan.com).
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