Blackbird Feeding Fledgling

On hot hard dry ground bits of yesterday's bread and cheese untouched by starlings, seagulls, pigeons extra to requirements anyone's now The water's dried up A blackbird eyeing these scraps and the sky and its young and I standing stock still, inquisitive, ventures, approaches, finds something worth eating I am a statue The fledgling has joined its mother a risky mission from cover to sun Lighter in colour, its feathers softer demeanour expectant her equal in size yet dependent still Beween vigilance and sustenance random morsels find their way into its submissive beak, until poised, they take flight The evening hangs still The statue fills the water-bowl