The baby flickers
consider fledging —
one and then another
sticks a head out, then feet,
breast, a shoulder
Their eyes dart around,
they blink,
They’re in and out,
in and out —
The one without the red cheeks
has been out longer,
come out farther
Yesterday a hawk came
and perched on their snag.
The jay made holy racket
and the babies hid
while mom and dad flew frantic,
making their decoy calls
Today it’s quiet.
The wind rushes through the trees,
crows and planes more distant.
I watch them watching everything,
weighing themselves
against the feat at hand.
©Wendy Mulhern
photos by Edward Mulhern
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