That Bird Lady


Spends her money

Feeding birds

Grains of wheat

Cracked corn

All scattering


She sits on the green bench

Spreading it around

Like blessing

To those beggar birds


She would rather

Feed the grey birds

Common pigeons

Then common people

You see

She doesn’t trust them


She asks

How they ended up in the park

Like the birds

She wonders

And closes her heart

To those

She doesn’t know or trust


They say

She in unchristian

She shouldn’t practice selective love

Excluding all of her kinds

But she spreads the grains

Gentle to her only love


As people ask why

All she answers

Is that

The pigeons

Don’t have



Or fights of faith

They are pure

Dirty birds

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