I watch from my kitchen window
as a female cardinal
with her muted brown feathers
lands at the birdfeeder hanging from the snow-covered branch
she shakes her feathers as she settles and eats
then quietly lifts her small head 
looks around
and flies away

she is not made of brilliant plumage
like her showy male counterpart
who stands proudly in his bright red suit
a beautiful specimen of flight
I wonder to myself
if she feels overlooked
and unseen

I continue to look out the window
and scan my backyard for a speck of red
that would stand out in lovely contrast
against the snow that drapes the ground and trees
but I only see her
on a distant branch
she turns her beak toward me
and winks

I know her secret