My Inverted Visitor

Good morning, small, black-hooded avian friend;
your presence on my feeder brings a smile.
Busy little guy, spry efforts without end,
go on, as if I'm not there, all the while.

Your blue-gray plumage, so precisely marked,
like elongated, black-capped chickadee;
in your actions, unique behavior, sparked
by your equilibrium ability.

Needle-sharp, that little pointed beak,
no matter, obscure, difficult, with spunk,
breaks the seed, pursues the bugs you seek,
with busy traverse up and down the trunk.

Your tiny feet dart on the bark of trees;
your intent serious, but, to us, a clown,
an acrobat, do life's necessities,
locating and transporting, upside down.

Singing. "Yink" or "Yank" or "Wha, wha ,wha,"
nasal twang or rapid tremble, mates to charm ,
in summer's heat or winter, cold and raw,
you bring your cheerfulness to town or farm.

From north and west of Canada to east.
south to Texas and Florida, you range.
All-season bird, adaptable to say the least,
you stay with us through weather's drastic change.

Of all God's feathered gifts my feeder share,
with bright colors, markings varied, special song,
I feel a jaunty lift when I'm aware,
my upside-down bird, nuthatch comes along.