Featherless Friend
Kerry E . B . Black
Genevera toddled to her customary park bench , a bag of sunflower seeds clutched in one arthritis-contorted hand , floral cane in the other . A sky blue scarf kept her fine hair from wandering like so many of her thoughts of late . Her dark , cable-knit sweater dwarfed her despite the mild weather . She positioned herself on the end of the bench , relying on the scrolled metal arm to steady her descent .
Birds flittered to her , attentive as courtiers before their queen .
She scattered seeds , as the birds knew she would . They capered to collect their meals , courtiers turned jesters . Finches and wrens , robins and a cardinal hopped to fill their beaks while a crow in a nearby elm blinked its onyx eye .
The woman hummed an accompaniment to the feathered frolic , a skip-rope song from her youth .
As though they picked up the song , a trio of local school girls sang as they skipped rope . “ All dressed in black , black , black …”
Nannies pushed smaller children on swings suspended from squealing chains . They put their heads together to gossip and giggle . One pointed in Genevera ’ s direction , and their pretty young faces transformed to either pity or disgust .