Bird woman is she

Surrounded by her friends of a feather

 Perhaps on quiet bookshelves, perching

Some secured in cages, musing

Each quite distinctive, watch her

Potter ’round murmuring

To someone unseen, one she

Loved before “birdies”

Flock’s small, mostly, living life

Framed in prints; shaped glass, ceramic

Wee bead eyes for those clothed with fabric

Sporting their fine factory-made pinions

Wood parrot spies, hides ‘mid territory

Tall houseplant, its green leaves twining

At Christmas dressed ‘pretties’

Adorned artificial tree, and she

Twittered to them cheerily

None of them had ever flown

Nor would…they were kindred

Spirits, knew that neither had she

(Stunted by binding Past, her wings)

Contented but caged, can’t fly freely

©Staarlz, 2022 ~ All rights reserved.

2 thoughts on “Birdies

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