Yellow-Throated Miner

Whenever I sit at the table on the patio,
the yellow-throated miner appears, one foot
dangling useless and heavy behind him
with each hop closer to the fallen food scraps,
because he cannot hunt as well as the others.

Or maybe I'm projecting my thoughts
onto a chirpy, mid-sized honeyeater.

My first week in Australia, a man told me
not to feed the yellow birds-- they're mean,
invasive, outcompete the other birds,
or at least scare them off of the territory.

But when I see that yellow foot twisted
and curled in an awkward and hindering
position, I can't help but hesitate
when I reach the last bit of my sandwich
and the other stronger, faster, louder
yellow-throated miners aren't around.

And maybe sometimes I intentionally
leave the crumbs on the emptying table
rather than sweeping them into the bin.