Seeking food I rush about always in a hurry
When I see you I do not worry I do not turn an scurry.
Why should I? You feed me. Your too slow and I’d run free.
You set out the feeder, though it’s for the birds.
I scurry up the post, and take my yummy turn.
I lost my fear for when your near
It’s something that’s crystal clear.
It’s something lost that once was dear.
The instinct known as fear
RedRavenPoems 
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