Honestly, I’m not sure where this came from or what’s going on here…
Your daughter watches bluetits from the window
And chuckles as a squirrel starts to climb
The birdfeeder. Look! Look! Again! Again!
Her pudgy fist knocks on the glass. “No! Naughty!
The seeds are for the birdies, go away!”
Your child, the angry champion of birds.
Since she was tiny, she has loved the birds.
High-contrast magpies hopping near the window
Would draw her gaze: she’d never look away.
As soon as she was old enough to climb
She’d pull down the Birds of Britain book down: “Naughty!”
Demand you read it out to her again
“I want to see the kingfisher again!”
She’s only happy looking at the birds
You must admit, she’s very rarely naughty
As long as she can look out at the window.
She’ll smile and watch a dull tree creeper climb.
So still and small, they never fly away.
She’s quite engrossed, and so you turn away.
A minute later, you turn back again
She isn’t there. You wonder, did she climb
As little as she is, to chase the birds?
Could she have got herself right through the window?
It’s really not like her to be so naughty.
You start to panic: “come on, don’t be naughty!
It’s very bad to hide yourself away.”
You can’t stop staring at the open window.
You’ve heard it said, yes, time and time again:
That little kids can move as quick as birds.
You turn your back, they run and hide and climb…
Oh, surely not! She couldn’t really climb…
She will be hiding, trying to be naughty.
You glance out to the garden, but the birds
Are nowhere to be seen, they’ve flown away.
You call her name out, time and time again.
Her empty space remains beside the window.
You hear the birds, you watch them hop and climb.
And from the window, seem to hear “No! Naughty!”
It fades away. You go to search again.
Tom Juniper Poetry 