I saw a goldfinch On the stoop this morning. It was pecking at that something or other. I saw a sparrow do the same the other day, Dipped its head in time to the fire alarm across the street. Its friends dust-bathed across the driveway Like smokers outside a nightclub. I thought about birds - I wonder what they make of the news. They can take a trip to Durham with the family, No worries of uproar or outcry. I thought about birds - They don’t stock up on birdseed from the feeder, They don’t need stockpiles of TP to wipe their arses. I thought about birds, and seabirds - If one wanted it could fly to Trinidad, Enjoy the sun, the swells by the shore, Rest for a while and then if it’s feeling ambitious Fly to New Zealand and not get tested at the border. The goldfinch has been round every day since March, I wonder if I set out a table and a pint glass Would he set up there with a cig and the latest crossword? Mirror me, slippered and unshaven, Pondering diffuse alveolar damage and Glasto cancellations. Were it only so easy to put up a birdfeeder and keep your friends this close.