A few months ago, a poem on The Writer’s Almanac made me want a dog. Today’s poem makes me want a little bird on my shoulder, although the last line is true my life with Toby–or life with any animal friend, really: “So much nicer than being alone, so much easier
than trying to think of something to say.”


Nuthatch
by Kirsten Dierking

What if a sleek, grey-feathered nuthatch
flew from a tree and offered to perch
on your left shoulder, accompany you

on all your journeys? Nowhere fancy,
just the brief everyday walks, from garage
to house, from house to mailbox, from
the store to your car in the parking lot.

The slight pressure of small claws
clasping your skin, a flutter of wings
every so often at the edge of vision.

And what if he never asked you to be
anything? Wouldn’t that be so much
nicer than being alone? So much easier
than trying to think of something to say?