My flighty little bird

I have a little nuthatch
That chases the chickadees
None of em asks: "What's that?"
When I come out with seeds;

My nuthatch sports a perfect curve
With a striking tapered beak
Flighty with so much nerve
It's twitching as I speak

Oh you little nuthatch, you,
-Swollen with spring desire..
My seed is free as you are too
Nothing more is required.

Somewhere in this pleasure
We all seem to fill a need;
But I fear these joys are measured...
As I'm getting low on seed...