Finch Love

Patiently.

I wait for the finch to face me.

Despite my experience of knowing that once she does turn,

she will be startled and fly away;

still I wait.

She’ll fly away not knowing that I harbor no evil intent;

not knowing that I love her

and would never harm her.

She knows that her yellowness makes her stand out

on the curtain of green leaves

and her learned response is to dart away from any danger.

Sadly for me and for her I represent that.

So I will admire her from a distance

and lessen her anxiety.

That’s love.