I've made a friend

His name is Charlemagne.

last week, birdseed flew
from hands that spend far
too much time typing,
to the rooftop by my window.

I hoped that a friend would come,
but I scattered far, several feet from my window.
They started to come for the seed
a few days later.

but when I scattered close to my window,
one came close enough for a visit,
breaking the clumped seed
between that crushing tool of his,
conquering boldly.

And so I named him Charlemagne--the
best I could come up with
on short notice
for a red bird,
royally tufted. 

He comes all the time now,
distracting often,
cocking his head, staring me in the eye,
singing a song, probably to his mate,
nearby on the powerline,
but I like to pretend he sings to me.