is what the Red Crossbills do if the seed cone crop fails:
Range far and wide searching for abundance & security.
We birders waxed ecstatic when they landed on the Spruces at Benedict Pond
to pry tiny pine nuts from between the scales of the cones,
gnashing those cross-tipped, orthodonture’s dream mandibles.
Might that be what I’ll have to do if abundance and security wan
with a Donald win?
Gnash? Move on?