The Tricky Chickadee

The Tricky Chickadee

He sneaks into my yard
all sharp and tenacious,
wearing a face mask
as we all do these days.

He rushes a sunflower,
steals savory seeds
right from its heart
then makes a frantic getaway.

From the safety of his gang
high in the trees,
he shares a joyful snicker
at our human gravity.

In victory he cries—
trick-a-dee-dee-dee,
trick-a-dee-dee-dee,
trick-a-dee-dee-dee!


This is the poem I wrote with my pals at Charles House yesterday. We focused on bird poetry, including Dickinson’s Hope is the thing with feathers, Shelley’s To a Skylark and Frost’s The Last Word of a Bluebird, which seems to be a fun one he apparently wrote for his daughter Lesley.

About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker is one of the organizers of Living Poetry, a collection of poets and poetry lovers in the Triangle region of North Carolina. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit.
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9 Responses to The Tricky Chickadee

  1. Lisa Tomey says:

    He’s pretty fortunate.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Cassa Bassa says:

    That’s delightful! The face mask 👍😁

    Liked by 1 person

  3. JeanMarie says:

    Nice. Bird poetry is a welcome breath of air after the slew of political frenzy,

    Liked by 1 person

  4. That’s a cute one.

    Liked by 1 person

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