Balance by Helga Kidder

Wind strikes the chimes
next to the patio door, wakens
the birds for breakfast as clouds
grey the sky. Snow forecast.

My mind wavers between nature
and the hum of the heat pump.
Leaves huddle against the brick wall
and liriope shrivel in the cold.
Another tornado rushing the islands
and the East coast.

The chimes continue their wild song
as a herd of deer ambles through
the garden, then startles and leaps
into the woods. I heap the feeders,
tell the squirrels to shove of. A daily
ritual I would miss.

Today I smile at the woodpecker, wren,
and finch hustling the feeder
while the cardinal sits impatiently
in the magnolia. I sip tea
as the sun brushes trees golden,
listen to harmony at the door.

Helga Kidder lives in the Tennessee hills with her husband. She looks on nature as her inspiration but is also influenced by the newspaper and TV. Her poems have recently been published in Orbis, Atlanta Review, Lit Shark and others. Her fifth collection of poetry “Learning Curve” was published by Blue Light Press in 2021.