Monday, January 1, 2018

Masked Face

Many nights this year
I’ve looked outside
And seen a masked face
Stare back from the yard.

She’s there again tonight,
Aware I’m watching,
Not asking who or what I am,
But focused on her task,

Ransacking feeders
I keep filled with seeds,
Fattening for winter cold,
Relying on my constancy.

I’m humbled by her faith,
Shamed to behavior
I might otherwise neglect
Through laziness or thrift.

Old wisdom says
It’s not the motivation
But the deed that matters.
So this is good;

Despite the mask
This girl is not a bandit;
She’s gifted me
A state of grace.

©2017 John I. Blair, 11/24/2017

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