Last Supper

The cardinals come last to the feeder
when it's almost dark,
hard to see sparrows in the grass.

Daylight has narrowed
to a line faintly pink at the hedge.

It is to nest
that the instinct of feathers is heading,
except for owls.

Owls have just set forth on the hunt.
Their hearing
is something I respect.

I know night hunger.