By: Wendy E. Braun

He feeds the birds
in moonlight –
cracked shells
in small mounds scatter
across the pavement.

A wind came and
shattered the feeder
some months ago.

Faded wood rests
on an old iron rod.

The door asks the post
to leave the packages;
he can’t hear the bell.

Still, he feeds the birds,
and cleans the chimes.